


Monsters in Berlin

by Oberyn2206



Category: Tanz der Vampire | Dance of the Vampires - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Dark Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graf von Krolock needs more love, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Multi, Mystical Creatures, Thriller, Vampires, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 86,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oberyn2206/pseuds/Oberyn2206
Summary: “Do you trust him?”Count von Krolock was calm, now with difficulty he settled down on his armchair, grimaced a bit. “No.” He said blankly.“Then what did you say?”“I said it must be up to you.” Assured the count. “He must be your sire, but you’ve been living under my protection. Only you will decide which side you will follow.”---Count von Krolock had many fledglings, but only a few of them were considered his children. However, one of his children was not turned by him, and now, the young man's sire had come back to reclaim him from the count's protection. The sire was not pleased at the final result.
Relationships: Alfred/Herbert von Krolock, Graf von Krolock (Tanz der Vampire)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. The beginning

The very first snow of winter began to fall when night spread her cloak across the land and the whistle of the last train wailed when it reached the station. There were so few people, the oil lantern shone and their shadows cast on the wooden wall, black figures on the only warm colour of the gloomy late evening. Nobody breathed a word. They pulled their padded coats tighter around their body and brought their scarfs to cover their noses, because the freezing cold had arrived. Inside the train, Herbert was doing the same. Through the window, to the west of the mighty Transylvania mountains, he could see the familiar black peak. Day or night, it was still a lonely and dark mountain, but to Herbert, it was home.

The coach waiting for Herbert at the station soon left the town far behind, the rattling sound of wheels and horse paces echoed in the middle of deserted stony paths, until they stopped at a small village. The late evening here was loud and boisterous, much more than that town down below, the only inn named Sheemesh was bustling with people just like those in big cities. It was warm inside. Herbert took off his hat and pinned his hair neatly, took off also his heavy cloak and hung them on the hangers, before resting on his favourite spot by the table next to the wall.

“Good evening, my lord. You’ve come back already.”

The innkeeper of the Sheemesh’s was a woman in stout stature who had reached her middle ages, graceful, friendly, with an eminent mole at the corner of her lips and warm light beaconed from her eyes that reminded people of their mother, aunt, or sister. She greeted him with a hearty welcome, even though her voice was only small enough for him to hear. Herbert smiled:

“Good evening, ma’am. It’s great to return at last. Italy is indeed a wonderful place, but you know, there’s no place like home.” Herbert looked around, wrinkled his nose because of the pungent smell of garlics from the kitchen, “Is everything alright?”

“Of course! It’s been only three months, my lord. You don’t have to worry too much as if you’ve gone for a whole year!” The innkeeper waved her hands. Herbert laughed:

“You are just as witty as always.” He crinkled his eyes as he smiled, thinking a bit. “How is Sarah, by the way? I believe she’s been spending more time here helping you run the inn.”

“Oh yes, she’s just as fit as a fiddle. Thank you for your concern, and also for the loan that helped us renovate this whole accomodation.” The innkeeper replied fondly, wiping the table clean. “The girl must be upstairs taking a bath right now, so please forgive us she can’t greet you at this moment.”

“Nay, I don’t mind at all. Just send my words that I’m back at last and we would love to see her at our castle for some time.”

“I will.” Hummed the innkeeper. “You must be tired. Let me have you something to drink, yes?”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll have it like usual.”

The innkeeper offered Herbert some wine, poured in the kind of glass that people used to enjoy claret, mixed with a little “taste” special for his family. Herbert sipped his drink with relish, while the innkeeper sent her maid Magda to roast some chestnuts. Eating roasted chestnuts in freezing winter was perfect, and Pip wouldn’t refuse good food. Let this be his gift for the little buddy, to atone for leaving her at home a whole month with the count.

Herbert stayed at the inn for a while, asking about business and the village. He sent his regards to the rest of the innkeeper’s family, and only ready to go when the inn had got less full. The innkeeper softly said as she handed Herbert his hat and cloak, “Extend my humble regards to His Excellency, will you?”

“I will, though I have to remind that he’s eventually decided that those titles are long gone by now.” Laughed Herbert.

“I know, but it’s hard to get rid of the habit of addressing somebody in a certain way, especially after such long ages, you see.” Explained the lady. “It doesn’t sound quite right to me to call either your father or you by only the last name. The people may come and leave and forget, but my family has been here since the beginning. We only know of the only landlord Count von Krolock.” She winked.

“We wouldn’t really mind, though.”

“Sarah is a better learner than me. I hope she doesn’t bother you with the addressing. For now, may you excuse me and have a safe trip. I have an inn to take care.” 

The viscount nodded, didn’t forget to thank. Then the coach headed on its way again. From now on there were no more signs of houses or any human beings, and darkness had conquered. When the gate of the giant castle appeared in front of his eyes, the moon had risen high.

The castle was still dark and magnificent as it had always been, silent as if it had been abandoned, a sign that his noisy brother was absent again, but Herbert was more than familiar with it. Now, he wanted to rush inside to greet his family, hug them in a tight embrace and never let go. He missed his father, even more than those years he studied abroad. He also missed his beloved dearly. He even got presents, Herbert smiled to himself. Alfred would bloat with bliss, but father would complain about too much laces on the clothes again, “But who knows what may”, he shrugged.

A gentle face welcomed Herbert when the main door opened, followed by a gasp of surprise when Herbert lurched forwards to wrap his arms around the neck of the person just greeted him. Giggling like a happy child, Herbert beamed:

“Guess who’s back!”

“What… Oh goodness, you scared me!” The younger man yelped and pushed Herbert away, hands came to brush his clothes neatly once he realised who had just attacked him. Redness slowly coloured his pale cheeks, his soft blue eyes glittered as he observed the man. “You’re early.” He commented. “We didn’t expect you to…”

“Surprise, isn’t it?” Herbert grinned, and the younger man had to choke a laugh with a shake of his head. Herbert went on, “I know I’m supposed to be away til next month, but…” He chuckled, tilting his head playfully. “Here I am. Now would you please let me come in?”

“No. Scoot!” The other teased, but leading Herbert inside anyway. It didn’t matter why the viscount arrived earlier than planned, the young man would be more willing to have him back. 

“Father, I’m home!”

Herbert was eager to step inside, brushing the chill off his shoulders, his voice rang through the large hall. Father never liked him being far away, so he must be very happy to see him, Herbert thought.

Yet, no one replied.

“Alfred, where’s father?”

Herbert asked, making the younger man turn from where he was turning on the light. Alfred let out a soft sigh, he said:

“I’m afraid he’s not available at this moment. There’s a guest, you know.”

“Oh, pity.” Pouted Herbert, his shoulders slumped. “What kind of guest could be more important than his own son?” He dropped his luggage with an extravagant whine.

“If you told us you’d be back today then things would have been different.” Reasoned Alfred, hands on his hips, then pointed at a rusty black machine placed below the stairs. “We’ve had a thing called telephone.”

“But if I told you then there’d be no surprise at all. Besides, that thing doesn’t always work!” Snapped back Herbert, but with no frustrating tone. He approached Alfred, making him flinch and blush, but the younger man remained his calm and raised an eyebrow:

“Everything has its price, my dear Viscount.”

“Is that so?” Herbert’s grin turned cheeky, but Alfred was so used to it. “Then what is the price for… **this**?” He ended with a quick kiss on the other man’s lips and sneaked his hands under the thick fabric of Alfred’s clothes to tickle him, forcing the younger man into a laughing fit.

“Stop, stop!” Choked out Alfred through his tears in an attempt to wigggle out of Herbert’s grip, which was all in vain. “Your little friend is watching!” He panted.

From the corner of his eyes, Herbert could see a black shadow in round shape was staring at him. “Pip!” He beamed, finally letting go of Alfred, and a grey racoon hopped towards to stand straight before Herbert, waving her tiny front limbs at him, demanding for a carry.

An unintelligible sound soon rang afterwards. It was Koukol, the old manservant, coming to check on whoever was disturbing his favourite moment of quiet. His scolded face lightened up once he’d seen the young master, and the welcome home greeting was heart-warming enough. Koukol, as usual, helped Herbert settle down in his chamber and the old man lit up the fireplace, sparks of flame danced every time wood was thrown into the rocky hearth. Herbert giggled as Pip tickled his neck with her fluffy fur and tiny paws, and Koukol approached to give him a firm shake of hand, his nose puffed up with bliss as he received a new winter coat for present, before hurrying back to his chores.

“So, how was everything when I was gone?”

Herbert asked once he’d changed to his comfortable nightshirt and settled on the bed with Alfred, gently tapping on the mattress to invite the younger man to sit next to him. Alfred allowed himself to lay down, like a lazy cat he stretched and mumbled:

“You sound like an old man who just came home after a long life travelling.”

“Everyone says that.” Smiled Herbert. “Do you miss me?”

“Oh, it’s lonely without you here, I tell you.” Alfred lifted himself and rested on his elbow. “Nobody can speak racoon, so I can’t be sure what Pip felt, but definitely she’s enjoying it now you’re home.” He pointed at the contented rodent nibbling on her roasted chestnuts. “Father was a bit highly strung sometimes because everything was abnormally quiet, and, though I’m not going to be a snitch but… Ludwig admitted he missed fighting with you.”

“Really?” Herbert couldn’t hide his laugh. “What a shame I can’t see the face of his right now. How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you miss me?” Repeated Herbert.

“You guess.” Smirked Alfred, didn’t flinch one bit when the man leaned down to kiss him. Herbert cooed:

“You’ve changed a lot since you were turned, you know that?”

“No, I’m still me.” Denied Alfred. “It’s just your bad habits that I’ve absorbed.”

“Father told you so?”

“Who else could it be?”

They ended up laughing. Herbert lay down next to the other man and shifted close to him, nuzzling his neck, inhaling the warm smelling of old wood that his beloved owned. He missed this peaceful feeling, thinking he would dive into a deep good sleep after tonight. Yet, the viscount asked again when another person came up to his mind:

“Any news from big dad?”

Alfred chortled, “Big dad? That’s what we call him now?”

“Why not?” Winked Herbert. “He’s been with our old man long enough.”

“I don’t know. He’s been off to Germany for a while.”

“No words?”

“He did write from time to time actually, and even called. But not with anything interesting. He kept in touch with only… our old man.” Alfred slurred. “He set up the telephone for that one person, you know.”

Herbert fondly teased, “They’re ridiculously cheesy.”

“Then what about us?”

“We’re still fresh and young.” Replied Herbert, making a dramatic gesture with his hand against his chest. “And the young are allowed to be cheesy.”

“Who said so?”

“Me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel of Threaten and Adore, my previous fic in this TdV fandom, and it occured several years after the event of Threaten and Adore as well. You may read that part here if you like (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992245/chapters/45098740), but you can also read this sequel as an individual story. Anze, Ludwig and Asmodeus are my original characters. I would appreciate if you decided to drop by this story and give it a try ^^


	2. The return of a sire

“Wake up. The moon is high, rise and shine!”

“Five more minutes.”

Herbert grumbled, tightened his blanket around him. The man was a person with brimful energy who would always been found awake, a sleep was a human essential need that he no longer found necessary, but once he’d in his dreams, it disturbed him whenever anyone tried to wake him up. Sleeping in his big bed after a long journey was much more comfortable than resting in the coffin, especially at times when he wanted to stretch his limbs like this. The voice went on, “You’ve been sleeping for two days.”

Herbert bolted up, “Already?” As he asked he frantically rubbed his eyes.

The voice only barked a laugh, “Just kidding. I just want to get your ass up.”

It was dawned on Herbert that moment when he realised who he was talking to. It was Ludwig, his brother, dressed in his usual discoloured black waistcoat. Herbert hated it, and he knew his brother loved to wear it just to annoy him. Ludwig leaned over the bed post, he sneered, “It seems that I’ve succeeded.”

“Bastard.” Snarled Herbert, about to slump back into the plush mattress when Ludwig snatched his blanket. The viscount huffed and finally gave in, “What day is it?”

“21 of November. 1953, in case you want to know what century it is, too.”

“Right, very funny.” Herbert rolled his eyes. “When did you come back home? I didn’t see you last night.”

“When you was snoring some time near dawn.” The younger man shrugged. Herbert grumbled:

“I do not snore.”

“Like father like son. You two are goddamn bears.” Slurred Ludwig, never paying attention to his brother’s distress. “Talking about father, where is he?”

“I thought you should have known by the time you came.” Herbert was taken aback as he sat straight up, combing his hair. “He’s still not in sight?”

“What do you mean?”

“He was having a guest when I came home last night.” Herbert muffled with a comb in his mouth. “I didn’t expect whoever that guest to stay til this moment. Didn’t Alfred tell you anything?”

“No, I haven’t met the lad yet.”

“How? Oh… Don’t tell me you got in by the window again.”

“Well… yes.” Ludwig gave an awkward grin. Rolling his eyes, Herbert left his brother by the bed to get through his wardrobe.

“There’s a main door, Ludwig.” He snapped through his shoulders, wondering whether he should choose his white shirt or his pale lavender one, which he decided to pick the second. “I don’t see any fun in your hobby of climbing things.”

“Father said you climbed a lot, too.” Pouted Ludwig.

“I was a baby.”

“Then I’m baby! And it’s fun.” The younger man was stubborn. “I like to be challenged.”

“Stick the challenges to yourself. We should head down to see father.” Ordered Herbert, fully dressed up in his favourite outfit. Pip was awake by that moment as well, and the racoon hurried up to Herbert’s shoulders.

Count von Krolock was walking from the main hall, apparently the guest had eventually left, the count’s face lit up with both surprise and fondness when he saw his two sons. “Boys, glad to see you’re both home.” He crooned, narrowed his eyes like a contented cat as he shifted his gaze to Herbert. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until…”

“Next month.” Finished Herbert, and the count nodded with a smile. “Surprise?”

“Indeed.” Count von Krolock’s joy never faded when his sons approached him. “How was your trip?”

“Fantastic.” Exclaimed Herbert, his grin grew wider as he recalled his time in the vibrant country called Italy. “Things are getting better since the war’s ended, to say the least. How are you? I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you last night.”

“Don’t mention it.” The count waved his hands. “Now you’re home, it’s all that matters.”

“How about me? Are you happy to see me home?” Piped in Ludwig, grinning like a Cheshire cat. The count gave a teasing smile:

“You’re always out and about, Ludwig. It gives me no surprise anymore.”

“Ha!” Herbert took amusement in his brother’s pouting. The younger man only huffed.

“You must be hungry, Herbert. Let’s get something for your stomach.” The count went on, gently patting his son’s shoulder. “I believe you have a lot to tell us about the time you were away, yes?”

“Then I’ll go get Alfred as well.” Agreed the Viscount, before he set off with a nod of his father, leaving now only the other two men in the middle of the main hall. Ludwig shoved his hands into his pants pockets, an unsettling expressing on his face when the count stopped his pace and told him:

“May I have a word with you after dinner?”

“What for?” He asked.

“It’s quite… complicated.” Chuckled the count, yet his voice was firm and low. “It’s about you.” No need to say it sent shivers down the young man’s spine. Ludwig nodded:

“I see.”

“Good.” The count brieftly said. “Then I’ll wait for you in my study.”

As his words poured out the count had vanished between the corridors. Ludwig shifted his feet restlessly at where he was standing alone, he had a hunch of what was coming to him, and it was not good any one bit.

Dinner had occurred shortly after that, Herbert was beyond happy to tell his stories to the count, the man hanged on his every word. Alfred was also listening attentively, his eyes sparkled with excitement every second he heard about the new world. All the sound they made and the clashing of wine glasses were so merry. But Ludwig only felt uncomfortable, occasionally he gave an awkward smile before staring back into his plate, or keeping his mind on Koukol’s grumbling beside. “I’m full.” He decided to make his excuse after a while, then hurried out of the dining hall.

“You left early, Ludwig. Are you not feeling well?”

Count von Krolock frowned when he noticed Ludwig was already leaning against the desk in his study. The young man didn’t bother to look at him and only sighed:

“You have some cuts on your face.” Commented he. The count touched his scratches for the briefest of moments, feeling the wound hid behind his coat throbbed as he tried his best not to let his son know. He chuckled:

“It’s nothing you should worry about right now.”

Ludwig eventually asked, “Then what is it you need to tell me, father?”

The silence between them was suffocating, the night was late and everything was so quiet. Count von Krolock’s eyes were dreadfully sad when he made his way towards his son, his voice turned soft like a whisper. “It’s your sire.” A sigh escaped from his throat as well, and he struggled to find his words. “He came here yesterday. He…”

“Wanted to take me back, didn’t he?”

The count’s lips formed into a thin line. “Yes.”

Ludwig went on, “Did he say why? Why bother to come back after so long?”

“I don’t know.” Admitted the count. Ludwig heaved another long breath, resting his arms upon the wooden furniture.

“He’s always like that… always hiding.” Mumbled the young man. “I always knew this day would arrive.”

“He said he felt sorry, and offered you an opportunity to learn.”

“I have everything I need to learn here.” Smirked Ludwig. “Do you trust him?”

Count von Krolock was calm, now with difficulty he settled down on his armchair, grimaced a bit. “No.” He said blankly.

“Then what did you say?”

“I said it must be up to you.” Assured the count. “He must be your sire, but you’ve been living under my protection. Only you will decide which side you will follow.”

“What if I said I wanted neither?” Laughed off Ludwig, half joking, half not. He thought it would enrage his father, but it didn’t. The man just showed obvious sorrow in his gaze:

“Then let you be. I’m not going to interfere in your decision.”

“I didn’t mean those words, though.”

“But I mean mine. I’m not forcing you into a life you don’t want, Ludwig.”

“But… do you want me to stay?”

“You are my son, of course I do.” The count without any hesitation admitted, adoration filled up in his voice. The young man went on:

“So help me, then.”

The count wanted to be certain, “You’ve decided? Are you sure?”

“I’m saying I don’t want to leave. We both don’t believe him, and you see what he did.” With a confident tone confirmed Ludwig, clear disdain slipped through his gritted teeth. “Who knows what else that man could take from me…” For the first time he glanced at his father, the count from where he sat wearily gawked up, just to face his son’s milky blind left eye that he always hid behind his long strands of hair. Ludwig’s brows knitted into a pleading expression, but his grip had already battered the desk edge. “I just wanted a family.”

“You have me.” Whispered the count, tender words making his son tense. “You have us.”

“How much time do I have?” Ludwig clenched his jaw.

“Until tomorrow night.”

“Then he’ll return.”

“And you will tell us whether you’ll go with him or not.”

“Good to know.” Nodded Ludwig, allowed himself to relax. “Thank you.”

“Do you want me to let the others know about this?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Muttered Ludwig, slowly dragging his way out. He looked exhausted, a tired silhouette crawled upon the stone wall. “If there’s nothing else I need to know, you can find me by the wood.”


	3. Asmodeus

Late night plunged into silence, isolation and cold. Snowflakes had stopped falling for quite a while and the wind had stopped moaning. In the small bedroom, no noises could be heard. The moon was shining bright on the deep dark sky, and from times to times one could hear the wails of raven flocks flying by the window.

Asmodeus sat by the nightstand, one hand illuminated under the dim light. The iron-barred lantern shone enough for him to see, shading his bandages-free hand as if it had been polished with oil. Fibres of flesh were not only red and swollen from being burnt, but also itching because thin skin was forming. Aspririn never seemed to work at all, he cursed, yet he always had the habit of preaparing in his bag some bottles.

Agonies made people feel even the briefest second seem to lengthen to eternity. Asmodeus gritted his teeth. Recovering drained his strength no less than times he set off into combat, and whenever he tried to inhale deeply to restrain a roar, his flat chest once again wanted to be torn apart, blood dripping and staining the white bandages. But it was all fine, he smiled to himself. His fingers would be able to move again in no long time, the new skin was forming, and then his hand – together with this whole wounded body – would be flawless and refreshed like a snake after shedding its skin. Just a little more. And then he would claim what he wanted.

.

.

“Good mornin’, pal! New one, ey?”

The rotund male voice ringing through the inn belonged to a pleasing middle-aged man, who settled down beside Asmodeus and patted his shoulders, just like what he usually did when greeting the residences here. Asmodeus said nothing, his fiery eyes under his hood gave the man a good glance, which resulted in him hurrying to let go. The man was wearing a coat weaved from sheep skin and woolen hat, the appearance of a working-class person with a full beard and smudges all on his face. Asmodeus grunted:

“Hi.”

“You’re up early. ‘Ow long ‘ave you been here?”

“Two nights.” 

“Well that’s quite a time! Care to befriend?” The man friendly showed out his hand. But Asmodeus only gave him another quick glance and turned away, looking at anything but him.

“I’m not in the mood.” He snorted, nose in the air.

“Hey, don’t be mad. Tis’ just a small talk.” The man lowered his voice.

“If you so dearly wished to kill time, then why don’t you return to that filthy workshop of yours and forge something helpful?” Asmodeus said without a flinch, pointing to the metal pincer dangling off the man’s belt. It raged the man on, and though he didn’t react anything, his face had turned bright red. But Asmodeus heed no care at all. In a blink of an eye, the man had stormed out of the inn. 

“Annoying human.” Grumbled Asmodeus.

The reason why Asmodeus used that kind of words was because, basically he was not human. He didn’t even have days of being alive like those blood sucking demons around here, but if he had, he didn’t remember, and didn’t bother to. Asmodeus the vampire was a doctor of a rugged countenance that was always lighted by a smile which was too wide to be genuine, backward in sentiment, lean and medium in height, with a lower half that could transform into tail of the reptile. Tail of a python. That tail was protected by a layer of hard scales like dragon’s, shining the deep red colour with purple highlight like his short hair. Running from his nape to his neck and down to his collar bones were birthmarks, speckled like spots on snakes’ skins, but he usually wore cravats that cover his whole neck, so people never saw his unhuman figures to ever ask about them. 

But don’t you think a hybrid like Asmodeus was more superior than other vampires. He still burnt under the sun, still feared the cross and despised garlics. He had the amber eyes of a python, glowing in the dark like two fierce fireballs, but the vision of a reptile was poor, and so was his. He couldn’t identify smells as good as other vampires, either. But then, Asmodeus was still no one to be easily looked down on. Because his long tail could wrestle people to death or squeeze them until their bones crushed, and even though python didn’t have venom, Asmodeus’ fangs did. 

Asmodeus rapped on the Krolock castle’s door when the sun had vanished behind the moutain range. Same old face greeted him, not very amused to say the least, but to his expectation, there was another one waiting for him. Asmodeus took off his hat and grinned his most amicable grin:

“Good evening, your Excellency.” He said, quickly his gaze shifted to the younger man behind the count. “And you, too, my son.”

“I’m not your son.” Ludwig immediately bit back. Asmodeus made a face:

“Now, now, we haven’t seen each other for ages.” He chuckled, his split tongue formed a small hiss as he tutted. “Isn’t a friendly addressing better?”

“I don’t care.” Ludwig clenched his jaw, his fists harderned where he hid them behind his back. The count raised a hand to stop him from making any further moves, while he sheltered himself between his son and the stranger.

“Enough with the greetings.” Announced Count von Krolock, voice firm and loud enough for his other fledgings to hear. “I believe you’re coming not to only say hi.”

“Of course.” Crooned Asmodeus, “I’m here to bring my fledging home.”

By the man’s last word Ludwig shivered, and he believed there was malice sparkled in the man’s glittering eyes. The young man decided to turn his head, to calm himself down from the fear he would not want to admit, and to his relief, the other family members were there for him. Herbert was right beside him, and Sarah with Alfred were observing attentively from upstairs. The count spoke, “You have to convince him first.” His face a solid grim expression, tilting his head from side to side, “And no tricks. We are having witnesses here.”

Asmodeus groaned in his throat as he darted his eyes to every corner of the castle. Being watched made him cringe, yet, he managed to fake another smile and nodded, all of his attention fixed on Ludwig:

“Son…”

“I’m not your son.”

“Fine.” Asmodeus’ face fell. “Ludwig…”

“You’re not allowed to call me by my name, either.” Ludwig gave a deadly glare, having nothing to fear about it when his father made no moves to stop him. Heat began to build up on Asmodeus’ face:

“What should I call you, then?”

“Nothing at all.” Snarled Ludwig. “You shouldn’t waste your time here, I’m not leaving.”

“Ludwig, I’m your sire.” Reasoned Asmodeus, his voice soft and sweet. “And a sire’s responsibility is to take care of their fledgings.”

Ludwig at once barked a laugh and snorted, “Care? Since when have you started to think of my well-being? After what you’d done to me?” As he spit out Ludwig opened wide both his eyes, his blind orb seemed to stare straight into Asmodeus. The man clutched his hat to his chest, crumbling it, and he slightly bowed:

“That’s why I’m saying I’m sorry. I really am.” Boldly, he approached closer, but Ludwig remained still. He wouldn’t back off when his family was there for him. Asmodeus went on, “And to atone for my faults in the past, I wish to bring you with me. I’m a scientist. Follow me, and you’ll have endless opportunities to learn.” He ended with an expectant frown, his hand reached into his coat pocket to take out a small card. _Dr. Asmodeus. Physicist, chemist and engineer_ , it wrote.

Ludwig took a quick glance at the object, then in his disgust he threw it away in front of the man’s eyes. He could see Asmodeus’ face twitch. “I don’t need it.” The young man blankly said.

“Think of the chances you may have. To open your mind. Become bigger. Greater.” Asmodeus didn’t give in, and the count had to raise his hand to prevent him from stepping too close to Ludwig. Ludwig was not easily moved:

“I’m contented with my current self.”

“Then please spare a thought for this old man.” Asmodeus pointed to himself. “I’m your sire, after all. Have you no gratitude?”

“Have you no shame?” Ludwig bit back, a little triumphant when Herbert was repressing his giggling into a straight face. “Look for any of your other fledgings. I doubt I’m your only one.”

“But you are my first fledging. You’re like my first child, that’s why I spare this opportunity for you.”

Ludwig closed his eyes and inhaled deeply at the words. He recalled his past times with the man, and still, he couldn’t erase the image of himself being used as a white mouse. Asmodeus had always been a mad scientist, and he wouldn’t risk it again. Opened his eyes slowly, Ludwig asked, “How could any of us trust you? You’re a snake.”

“Well, son, that’s a pretty offensive stereotype of our kind.” Asmodeus for the first time glared, but in a blink he was once more showing his friendliness, “It’s been so long, I’ve changed, and I regret what I did. Everyone can change, don’t you agree?”

“I don’t need you.” Insisted Ludwig.

“Then tell me what you need. What do you want? I will do whatever you wish for.”

“I want you to fuck off.” Snarled Ludwig, paying no care to his father’s reminding _‘language’_. “I have everything I need here.”

Then without any ceremony he even spit, forcing the other man to stumble a few steps backwards and his patience grew thin. Asmodeus widened his eyes, the smile on his lips faded into a crooked twist, revealing his real feature. He turned to give the count a cold deadly glare.

“You freak… what have you done to my fledging?” He breathed through his gritted teeth, frustratingly crumbling the hat in his hand. “You brainwashed him, didn’t you?”

“It was you who shoved the boy into the wilderness, until I took him in.” The count replied without a flinch, from his height he even looked down on Asmodeus. “That explains pretty much for the boy’s decision. I may be a villain in your history, but I would never do such a thing to Ludwig.”

“Ludwig has made up his mind on his own. There’s no use insulting my father like that.” Herbert from where he was standing piped in, arms crossed in front of his chest. “None of us has ever interfered in Ludwig’s making up his mind.”

“This is none of your business, young man, so stay away.” Snapped Asmodeus.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. I’m a witness here, and Ludwig is my brother. This is also my business.”

“Ridiculous.” Muttered Asmodeus. “You’re the count’s son. Of course you’re on his side against me. All of you.” He refered to both Sarah and Alfred as well with a snort. “Witness my ass.”

“Watch your tongue, doctor.” Warned the count. “Or I won’t have mercy like last night.”

Asmodeus scorned, “Don’t make me laugh. Monster like you, talking about mercy…”

Words just poured out of Asmodeus’ mouth, the man had seen himself grabbed by the collar in front of everyone’s astonish. Count von Krolock was keeping his calm no more, he seized tight Asmodeus in his iron grip and lifted him up, the man’s feet dangling off the ground. The count growled, “I say watch your tongue.”

“Or what?” Asmodeus never flinched, instead, he stuck his split tongue out just to tease his enemy. The man chortled, “You’re going to grill me like last night?”

“I should have staked you.”

“And I should have crushed you.” The grin on Asmodeus’ face grew wider and wider, his eyebrows cockily raised. “You see, my feet are still free. We all know that I still can squeeze you to death right here, right now, don’t we?”

As he said, hard scales started to appear and spotted over the sides of Asmodeus’ head, his slit irises shifted restlessly between his golden eyes. He was trembling, and it made the count falter, but his grip on Asmodeus’ neck hadn’t loosened yet. “I only wanted this meeting to go in peace.” The count grunted.

“Your Excellency, you sure has quite a sense of humour!” Asmodeus yanked his head backwards in an insane laughing fit. It scared the rest of them, and the man slowly leaned forwards to whisper to the count’s ears. “But you see… peace was never an option.”


	4. The stranger child

Herbert’s heart was beating frantically when he noticed Asmodeus’ hands leave the count’s wrists to sneak into his pockets. “Watch out!” Yelled the viscount, but it was too late when the last thing he saw was two golden fireballs blazing in the dark when foggy smoke coated them all. Ludwig was in time shoved his father away and stumbled upon him, but Herbert didn’t meet his luck when he elbowed himself between Asmodeus and the two men. Soon, Herbert collasped.

The smoke vanished just as quickly as how it appeared, so did Asmodeus. Sarah and Alfred rushed to the men’s sides, Ludwig had to cough several times before he could gain back his normal breaths. Count von Krolock hurried to lift Herbert up:

“Herbert!” He called, placing his son neatly onto his lap. He patted Herbert’s cheeks to wake him, and to his relief the young man began to stir. “Son, can you hear me?”

Herbert only hummed in response, his brows knitted into a painful grimace as he led his head loll to a side. “Herbert?” The count repeated.

“Father?” Herbert weakly managed, eyelids fluttered in a fragile attempt to open his eyes. Count von Krolock studied his son’s state, his voice filled with genuine worry:

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” The viscount eventually blurted out, his vison danced when he tried to look up at his father. His head stinged. “Just a little dizzy.” He confessed.

“You must have knocked your head when you fell.” The count said, letting out a long sigh of relief when there was no wound on his son’s body. He stroke Herbert’s face, “Can you stand?”

Herbert only shook his head, and with a grimace he closed his eyes again. Count von Krolock nodded, at once he held Herbert in his arms and rose to his impressive height, allowing his son to rest upon his shoulder. “I’ll take him to his chamber. Ludwig, are you alright?”

“Of course.” The young man rose to his feet as well, brushing his clothes as if nothing had ever happened. Count von Krolock gave an approving nod, in a swift he carried Herbert upstairs. Ludwig turned to Alfred:

“Would you please announce Koukol about the incident? We will need to lock every single door and window as soon as possible, in case that vile decides to return.”

Alfred nodded, quickly he was off to do what he was told. Sarah pondered:

“What about me?”

“Stay at the castle for a while, until the scene is clear.” Reminded Ludwig. “I believe he’s still somewhere outside, and I don’t think he will spare your life just because you’re a kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Just listen to me.” Repeated Ludwig, his eyes focused on the white land beyond the castle gate. “I’ve paid my price messing with him before.”

As he said he ushered the girl upstairs, and soon, the main door of the Krolock castle was once more locked.

.

.

“Herbert. May I come in?”

Count von Krolock called as he gently knocked on the door of his son’s bedroom. The young man was unharmed or so it seemed, and he had been sleeping soundly for a couple of hours, his breathing was steady with ease. But the count still wanted to check on him, at least one last time before the dawn broke.

“Herbert?”

The count repeated, carefully he opened the wooden door. He had heard noises, a sign that his son might be awake. But when he stepped inside, all he could see was an empty bed.

“Herbert, I’m not in the mood for fooling around.” Count von Krolock firmly stated, he strolled across the bedroom to search for his son. But the viscount was nowhere in sight, and the window was still tightly shut.

“Please, Herbert, whenever you are, come outside.” The count begged as he settled down on the mattress, an exhausting frame he was when he tried to sit up right. “I’m tired.”

A sniff from inside the wardrobe was like an answer which caught his ears. Count von Krolock made his way to the furniture, slowly he knelt down, and he was certain he had heard someone weeping. It reminded him of some days back in the past, as he decided to open the wardrobe door he wished it was all his imagination.

“Oh sweet Satan.”

“Papa?”


	5. My little one

Count von Krolock was struck to the bone at the sight of his son. Herbert, his Herbert, had shrunk to a size of over four feet tall, with a frame which was fragile to the cold and he was trembling as he curled himself up like a tiny pangolin. The familiar bright blond hair was short to his nape and dishelleved, as the boy gawked up he wiped his tears with his bare arm, smudging his face with water and something which looked like dirt.

“Papa?”

Broken voice choked out, mingled with hiccups that made the count feel as if a lump came to his throat.

“Little one, what’s wrong?”

The question slipped out of the man’s lips without difficulty, as if he had seen this scenario for so many a times. The tension ebbed away from his shoulders and his eyes grew soft, with a flinch which was too vague to notice he reached out his hand to caress his son’s face. “Don’t cry. What can I do to make you smile?”

“You’re not mad at me?” Little Herbert sniffed, yearning into the touch. He didn’t dare to look straight at his father. Sitting on his haunches, the count frowned and shifted closer, but his smile, however weak it was, never faded. He asked:

“Why should I be mad at you?”

“I… I was playing in the snow and mud again, though you told me not to.” The boy mumbled, clutching at his own crumbled clothes that was stained with dirt and partly frozen with frost. “My clothes are all wet and icky…”

Chuckled the count:

“Clothes get wet sometimes, you don’t need to worry too much.”

“Really?” Little Herbert was surprised, looking up at his father. “You told me so many times, but I didn’t listen. I… I just love the snow so much. I thought you would be angry so I… I hid here. Are you sure you’re not crossed at me?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, alright… Thank you.” Little Herbert sighed. “That’s good to know.”

“Now, don’t get yourself all worked up. Let’s get you a bath, shall we?”

“Yes, please. A bath sounds nice.”

As the boy nodded, he casually climbed into his father’s lap and let the man hold him. The count rose to his feet, he brushed his son’s hair as he led them both to the attached bathroom, drawing warm water into the bathtub. Herbert soon went happy with the soap bubbles, he laughed as his father washed his hair. As he fondly watched his rubber duck floating, he asked:

“When I was playing outside, I saw really pretty snowflakes, and I was thinking.”

“Interesting.” Commented the count. “What did you think?”

“I think it would be really nice if mama was here to make a snowman with us. You know, maybe even a snowmen family, like ours.”

“Oh, little one, that would be wonderful.” The count faltered and he heaved a dreadful sigh. “But I’m afraid we’ve talked about this. She’s…”

“Mama’s never coming back. I know.” Little Herbert mumbled, languidly playing with the sponge he held in his hands. “I’m just saying...”

“I’m really sorry, Herbert.”

“You see, I’m almost eight. It would be really, very fantastic if she could pay us a visit and sing happy birthday to me. Do you think she will ever miss me?”

“Of course!” Assured the count, pouring water down the boy’s hair as he kept washing his head. “She loves you as I do.”

“Oh, alright… That’s nice.” Herbert crinkled his eyes as he smiled again. “If she’s busy it’s fine. She loves me, that’s what matters, right? I love her, too, so it means we have something in common. I still have you. I can always have you. And we can make loads of snowmen.”

“Snowmen are fun, but I’m afraid I will not be able to build one with you. At least for now.”

“What? You can’t?” Pouted little Herbert. The count gave a sad smile:

“I dearly wish to play with you, but I have work to finish at the moment. But I believe your brothers and sister can.”

“It’s boring every time you go to your study!” Huffed the boy, splashing water from side to side. “Wait… Brothers and sister?”

“Well, they’re more like cousins. Your other relatives.” Chuckled the count. “You will meet them when tomorrow comes.”

“I have brothers and a sister! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” The boy exclaimed out loud, light beaconed from his glittering eyes as he tossed around in the bathtub and turned sharply at his father. “That means more friends for me! I’m so excited for tomorrow already! We will have a lot of fun! We can build snowmen and throw snowballs, and… and… we can also draw together and play hide and seek!”

“They will help me take care of you for some time. I bet they’ll be thrilled as you are!”

“Oh I can’t wait to see them! What are they like? Are they nice? What if they don’t like me?”

“You can find out yourself once you’ve met them. I’m sure they’ll love you anyway.” The count fondly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “But for now, let’s get you back to bed. The water is getting cold.”

Little Herbert was still bouncing when he sat on the bed and let his father dry his hair with a big fluffly towel. He giggled and shook his head fervently like a puppy drying himself, letting his hair cascade over his face while he waited for his father to fetch for some new outfit. The count returned with a white shirt and underpants, but they were far too big that they made the little boy concern. “You’re growing up fast, your old clothes no longer fit you.” The count lied, as he gently put the shirt over his son’s head. Herbert found himself look like he was wearing a dress, he burst into a laughing fit at the new sight of him, and he rolled onto the plush mattress. “As it happens, I will get you new clothes very soon.” The count cooed, and Herbert never doubted one bit of it. The man was happy to tug his son in neatly, sitting by the boy’s side just to watch over him. Herbert was quick to sound droopy, he asked:

“Does mama know about those brothers and sister?”

“I don’t think she does…”

“Aww, pity. I think she would love to see them as well as I am. If she returns tomorrow then she’ll get the chance to meet them. And meet me, too. I really wish to see her face. Like, for now is the best, to be honest.”

“But I’m afraid that’s impossible, mein Liebling.” Sighed the count. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“I don’t know.” Pouted Herbert. “You’re not mama. You’re old and grumpy.” As he said he playfully stuck his tongue out. The count had to laugh:

“Old and grumpy? Is that what you think of your father?”

“You really are!” Wiggled Herbert. “You don’t look like mama. Except for the long hair, I think. Maybe you could… let your hair down like her. I found it’s cool, and it reminds me of mama. Could you… could you do that for me? Please?”

There was never a time when Count von Krolock could refuse Herbert. As he was pled the man unpin his hair and let it flow down to his shoulders, draping it along their faces when he leaned down to stare at his son. The boy gave a contented squeak at the new sight of his father, and he purred loudly as the man kissed his brows. “Like this?” The count murmured.

“Uh-huh.” Hummed the boy, and with a wide stretch of his mouth he yawned. The count chuckled:

“I’m glad you like it. Now, bedtime, I think.”

“Alright.” Little Herbert giggled as his father gently pinched his cheek. The man praised:

“Isn’t that a cute little happy face?”

“Because I’m happy.” Grinned the boy. “I’m happy you’re not mad at me for playing in the snow. Christmas is coming in no time, it’s great that we’re going to have plenty of time together. I’m having you, and I’m having more friends to play with. Did you re-decorate my room?”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. It has so many beautiful and shining purple things. I love purple. I hope my brothers and sister would like it, too. I hope they would like me. Perhaps they’ll like me if I’m a good boy.”

“But you are a good boy.” The count slipped his fingers into Herbert’s hair and he made the boy purr with his gentle scratches. “Would you like me to read you a bedtime story?”

“No, thanks.” The boy shook his head. His eyelids were dripping.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm! I’m a good boy now. A big, good boy. I don’t need bedtime stories, you can go to sleep.”

“Then… Goodnight, Herbert.”

“Goodnight, papa.”

Count von Krolock placed a final kiss on Herbert’s head once the boy drifted into his dreams. He sat down by the little one for a while, just to watch over him, seeing the small chest heaved up and down peacefully as he breathed. The count wasn’t aware that he was smiling, when he reached out a hand to tuck the few strands of bright blond hair neatly to the boy’s ears. He was yearning to caress the boy’s plumb cheeks, when on the door came knockings.

“Father.”

Alfred was waiting outside when Count von Krolock opened the door. Without hesitation, he asked, “How’s Herbert?”

The older man took a quick glance inside, checking on the boy who was sleeping soundly for one last time before he exited. “Things happened.” He exhaled heavily, “I’ll inform you all in my study soon.”

“Is it serious?” Frowned Alfred.

“I don’t know.” Admitted the count, pinning back his hair. He patted Alfred’s shoulders, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

And with that the count turned his heel and readied to vanish into darkness. Alfred didn’t follow right away.

“Are you crying?” The young man was concerned. The count paused and blinked several times, knowing that his eyes were all puffy and red. However, he coldly denied:

“No.”


	6. Siblings

Herbert was aware of noises, soft noises of papers being turned, and the voice of someone humming. It was soothing, but to a seven-year-old like him, he didn’t think much of it, especially not when the blankets were so warm and heavenly heavy. A cool hand stroke Herbert’s hair. It disturbed his sleep, but the realm between sleeping and wakefullness was pleasant, and somehow he thought it was his mama’s hand pampering him. Herbert didn’t bother to bat the hand away, and soon, he settled back into his dreamless sleep.

The sky had turned dusk when Herbert was fully awake and opened his eyes. He was still in the room he’d found himself in, with a blazing fire to warm it very comfy. There was a playing music box beside him, he realized it, though he remembered putting it in a treasure chest and the thing was rarely put in use. It was mama’s present when he was born, as he was told. The melody was soft and peaceful, and it reminded him of summers in the fields, when he would run around and catch butterflies.

Herbert was dragged out of his thoughts and nearly jumped when the mattress shifted. To his surprise, to his left there was a man sitting, he was leaning against the canopy bed post and his head pressed slightly on the poll. In his hand, lay an opened book. Apparently, the man had nodded off while reading, only woke enough to curl a little onto his side.

Herbert had never seen this man before, but somehow, the boy had grown fond of him already. The man was not big at all, his frame was lean and his feature was soft, compared to Herbert, he was only like a big brother. He didn’t give Herbert the feeling of being threatened, though the boy knew so well that strangers shouldn’t be trusted at all. The man had short chestnut hair cascading over his forehead as he slept, the earthly colour of it glowed under the warm light of the bedroom, matching the deep red colour of his vest and the brownish of his pants.

“Oh, you’ve woken.”

The man startled, realising he had been dozing in and out. His voice was the sweetest voice Herbert had ever heard from a man, a voice which he thought it had to belong to an angel. For a few moments the man didn’t make any moves, he asked:

“Did I scare you?”

Herbert clutched his blanket tighter around him, as he slowly shifted further to the other side of the bed. The man smiled affably, he went on, “My name is Alfred. Nice to meet you.”

“Alfred…?” Herbert weakly mumbled. The young man nodded:

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Herbert.” Returned the boy.

“Herbert.” Repeated Alfred. “What a beautiful name. Do you know what it means?”

Herbert shook his head.

“It means that you’re a splendid and mighty warrior.”

“Oh… fancy.” Giggled Herbert. “I like warriors. They’re brave and their armours are shiny, and they have the best horses!”

“Of course they do! Do you like stories about them?”

“Do you have any?” Excitement started to build up in Herbert’s gaze. Alfred pointed to his book:

“I can drop by every night to read for you if you like.”

“You can? Really?”

“Really.” Smiled Alfred.

“So that means… Papa sent you here? Are you an angel? He promised me an angel a few years ago.”

“Oh, little one, I’m afraid I’m no angel.” Alfred hummed in response. “But, I am your big brother.”

“My brother…” Herbert whispered and widened his eyes, in which expanded his irises in light of revelation. He exclaimed, “You’re my brother! My brother! My friend!”

“Oh dear, you seem happy.” Chuckled Alfred, with a brightful grin that made the boy melt. At once Herbert grinned and bounced in response, like an excited pup he tossed his blanket away and crawled nearer to the young man. He chirped:

“I’ve been waiting to see you! I barely slept all night! Father said you could play with me.”

“And I was looking forward to see you as well!” Laughed out Alfred. “I’m here to take good care of you. We’ll have a lot of fun!”

“I like to do what’s fun.” Chortled Herbert. “Can we play?”

“Play? Like… Right now?”

“Please?”

“Little one, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon to play?” Alfred's voice was teasing. “We have a whole night ahead, take your time! Why don’t we get you ready first? I believe your father is expecting you downstairs and already have some presents for you. I bet you’d be thrilled!”

No doubt the sugary words were easy to hook on Herbert’s attention, for he was purely a child at the best, who would always be down for games and presents. Inaudible laughters escaped as Herbert hopped down from his bed and immediately seized Alfred’s hand, all on his own he pulled the man out of his bedroom. Little Herbert was stronger than he looked, with all the pumping energy of a springful child he ushered both of them downstairs without tripping, until he paused in front of another man’s feet at the end of the stairs.

Herbert gulfed.

The other man was taller than Alfred, his shoulders were broader and his slim-fit top was showing his stud upper body which was thickly muscled like a fighter. He had long hair drape elegantly around his nape, wavy like beach waves, Herbert noticed, but his feature was not gentle at all and his jawline was chiselled and sharp, his eyes were like daggers staring down at him. His face was even decorated with scars that people often found terrifying. Immediately Herbert stumbled backwards and fell into Alfred. The boy cried.

“Ludwig! What did you do?”

Count von Krolock was immediately behind them the moment he heard screaming. Herbert yanked his hand off Alfred’s and climbed onto his father’s arms, letting the count scoop him up once more and he was sobbing into his coat. The count patted his son, his voice a soothing murmur, “There, there, it’s alright. Papa’s got you.”

Then he turned to Ludwig, a still shocking expression washed over the young man’s face. “Ludwig, did you scare him?”

“Of course not!” Protested Ludwig, wringing his hands together in his agitation. “He bumped into me and started crying!”

The count’s lips twitched. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

“I swear! You talk as if I love teasing children!” Ludwig raised his voice, then turned to tug at Alfred. “Lad, speak up for me! You saw it all, didn’t you?”

To his relief and expectation, Alfred nodded, “Yes, father, Ludwig didn’t do anything wrong.” The younger man pondered for a few seconds. “I think it’s his scars that frightened the boy so much.”

“I see.” Hummed the count. Little Herbert only dared to glance up a little bit to stare at the other man, then went back sniffing when Ludwig’s dot iris shifted to stare back at him. The count cupped Herbert’s face. “No need to be scared, darling. He’s your brother.”

“I don’t want him to be my brother!” Fussed Herbert. The count chuckled:

“But he **is** your brother, whether you want it or not.” His caress was fortunately assuring. “He’ll never harm you, I’m certain of that.”

“Hi.” With a terribly low voice Ludwig grinned. His sharp teeth made the poor boy cringe and he clutched tighter onto his father’s chest. Herbert wailed:

“I don’t like him!”

Ludwig was quick to grimace, “As if I need you to, you little sh-”

“Language!” Shouted the count. At once the young man snuffed out like a candle and pulled an enduring face, while Herbert started to weep once more. He wasn’t used to his father shouting.

“Now this is clearly not my fault.” Whistled Ludwig, like a habit he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. The count groaned:

“Now he is your little brother, so I expect you to behave. Both of you.”

As firm order came out Ludwig heavily sighed, his arms pulled up in the air as he said, “Fine, fine. As you wish, father. I won’t keep it in my mind that he…” He pointed to Herbert, “wounded my feelings first.”

“He’s seven, Ludwig, and even in human years. Be patience.” Alfred piped in. The other man shrugged:

“Of course I will. Just saying.”

“Alfred is right.” Reminded the count. “I won’t tolerate any of you if you ever dare to pick on him, or discipline him without my permission. Understood?”

“Understood.” Ludwig drawled out.

“Good.”

Then with an approving nod the count whirled away, never stopped pampering Herbert so the boy could feel comfortable. From where he was resting on his father’s shoulder, Herbert stared back at the men. Alfred was smiling fondly as always, but Ludwig’s deadly glare made him gasp and he hurried to mutter something to his father. The men could hear Count von Krolock coax Herbert with some new clothes.

“Aren’t they sweet?” Praised Alfred. Ludwig finally dropped his arms with an extravagant slump of his body, he snorted:

“Of course, of course, he’s father’s favourite, after all.”

“Come on, Ludwig, don’t be jealous. He’s a child.”

“A child or not, he’s the reason why I hate children. Spoiled little brat.”

“I know.” Alfred gave a cheeky smile. “You just want father to pamper you, too, don’t you?”

Ludwig rolled his eyes, “Now listen here, you little shit.”


	7. Babysitting

Sarah was doing her hair when she had a feeling of being watched. It didn’t bring her any discomfort, though, and she even found the situation funny. Her singing reduced into soft hums, as she kept on combing her red locks, she spoke, “You may come in if you like. I don’t bite.”

Her bedroom door opened just a tiny bit before it was shut again. Herbert, now fully dressed in a full set of warm outfit, was pacing nervously at the threshold. He was embarrasing himself looking at the girl.

“There’s nothing to be shy.” Encouraged Sarah, from her make-up table she turned to face the boy. She smiled, “I see you’ve had some new clothes. Those suspenders really suit you.”

“Thanks...” Herbert felt his face a little heated up. The girl went on:

“You seem nervous. Are you lost?”

Herbert mumbled at his feet, “I think so. I’ve never been to this quarter.”

“The castle is enormous, anyway.” Sarah stated. “How did you find my room?”

“I heard singing.” The little boy meekly said, “It… it was really beautiful. I like it.”

“Aw, thank you, little one.” Wheezled Sarah. Then with a sweet voice she beckoned at the boy, “Come here.”

The young lady named Sarah was as trusting as Alfred, little Herbert found, though he was still a bit shy approaching to her. She was pretty like a fairy, and though Herbert hadn’t seen any real fairies before, he thought it was nice to have Sarah as a sister. The girl did succeed in melting the little boy’s heart, Herbert’s eyes wided and glittered when Sarah praised how adorable he was while gently pinching his face. She tutted:

“Look at you, so cute. Your cheeks are so squishy I can even take a bite from them!”

“B…Bite?” Herbert jumped. The boy was too young to notice the flashing change of emotions on Sarah’s face, but truly, the girl’s fangs had itched. Attempting to give a convincing smile, Sarah cooed:

“It’s just a way of saying.” She grinned, moving her hands down to give the boy’s shoulders some assuring pats. “Who could ever hurt someone this adorable?”

“I think Ludwig would.” Confessed Herbert, and he didn’t know why Sarah burst out laughing. The young lady crooned:

“Oh, brother Ludwig is mean, isn’t he?” Pouted she. Herbert had to agree with her, so far it was Ludwig the only one to stare at him so menancingly. He would cry had he stumbled into the man alone.

“He is.” Huffed the boy. “He looks like a crow. A crow with big terrible white eyes.”

“You sure have such an imagination!”

“I have a big one.” Giggled Herbert. “Fancy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, really fancy.” Laughed out Sarah, as she mimicked the funny way Herbert pronounced the word ‘ _fancy_.’ It chanced on their rambles that there came knockings on the bedroom door. The knockings, however gentle they might be, were loud in the silence of the night. With a crack the door soon opened, revealing a man with a fair figure that Herbert had been looking for. Alfred scanned the room in only a second or two, before he fixed his gaze on the two people by the nightstand. He spoke:

“Oh, there you are, Herbert. I’ve been looking for you.”

“I think he was doing the same before he found me.” Replied Sarah, fondly brushing Herbert’s short hair that made him nearly purr. “The poor boy was lost.”

“I see that he’s getting along well with you.” Alfred sounded pleased. “Were you two having fun?”

“Mhm! I like her!” Herbert immediately chirped like a nightingale, his eyes narrowed as he grinned brightly. Alfred nodded and hummed:

“But I’m afraid the dawn is going to break, Herbert. You must go to bed.”

“Already?” Herbert’s face dropped and he pouted. He was just about to ask Sarah to teach him to sing. But Alfred didn’t seem to care much about his little whine, the man ordered:

“Your father would like to see you first, though.”

“But… I just met sister Sarah a few moments ago. Can I play a little more?”

“Herbert.”

“Please?”

With his round puppy eyes little Herbert looked up at Alfred. The man breathed in, and he swallowed hard. He almost cursed, Herbert as a child or an adult had always been so irresistable, but Alfred knew the count would ground him to detention if he allowed the boy to stay up too late. He sighed:

“You can’t change my mind just by making that face, Herbert. You have played all night long.”

“Please, please, please, please?”

“Now, little one, listen to him.” Sarah softly said. “It’s very late now, if you don’t sleep then you’ll be tired!”

“But I’m not tired!” Whined Herbert.

“But you will when the next night comes.” Reasoned Sarah. She lowered her voice, “I won’t play with you if you’re sleepy.”

“I’m not sleepy…” The boy snivelled with a sniff, but stopped himself with a stretching yawn. Alfred giggled, and Sarah’s lips curled up into a smirk:

“See?”

Eventually gave up, Herbert sulked, “So, if I go to sleep now, you will play with me tomorrow?”

Sarah sweetly cooed:

“I can even show you the best games.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.” The young lady winked, before she sent the boy to Alfred, didn’t forget to blow him a kiss that made him blush like a ripen peach. Taking Herbert’s hand, careful enough not to touch the silver bracelets that the count put on his son’s wrists, Alfred praised:

“Good boy.”

Though Herbert was still a bit highly strung about leaving, they bid their wishes goodnight and soon exited. Alfred was letting the boy lead the way when he was tugged at his sleeves:

“Can I have a bedtime story?”

The man fondly smiled as always, yet, he teased, “You’re demanding.”

“Please? I’ve been good.” Herbert spun to face Alfred when he’d hopped down from the stairs. The man didn’t even have to worry whether the boy would trip and fall or not, climbing and jumping was like his nature. Alfred chuckled:

“Of course.”

“Can I choose the story?”

“Deal.”

.

.

Count von Krolock heaved a long sigh as he searched through his documents. Books were stacked up on his desk in the library, he had been reading for days and nights, he was weak, he was awake. His eyes were sore, and he doubted that his vision was the way it used to be. Even his back hurt. As he bent over his papers, Count von Krolock rested his temple against his hand.

“Father.”

Soft voice led the count out of his thinking. He turned around in his chair, a miserably exhausting sight he was as he gawked up at his children. He tried a smile at his youngest child.

“Hello, Herbert.” He weakly said, and the little boy rushed to his father’s side to climb onto his lap. Tired as he might seem, the count carried Herbert in his arms and stood up. “How was your night?” He asked.

“Pip and I had fun.” The boy beamed brightly, referring to the grey racoon he just met the evening before. “She’s my best friend.”

“Really? What did you do?” The count asked, bringing Herbert across his library and to the window to pull the curtain down. The dawn was breaking. It was not an easy task at all to teach the boy the habit to sleep at daytime and wake up at night like the rest of them, but it was a relief he didn’t ask much and was learning fast, ever since he found out that his father was not human. Herbert went on telling:

“We found this cool, kinda creepy-looking tree stump in the front yard. It looked like there could be a treasure there! Real treasure! But then it started to snow. I like snow, but it was too much, so we guarded our treasure away! And then… and then… We found out the tree stump was empty!”

“Oh, that’s not good at all.” Commented the count. “So what did you do next?”

“We didn’t do anything.” Herbert shook his head. “Because I think some elves might put some treasure there later. Must go back and check tomorrow.”

The count crinkled his eyes as he smiled, “Sounds like you two had quite an adventure.”

“Yes, it was amazing!” Herbert chirped again. “And when I came inside to find brother Alfred, I got lost in the west wing, like, lost in a maze! But I heard someone singing really nice and it was sister Sarah!”

“Was she nice to you?”

“Uh-huh.” Hummed Herbert. “I like her.”

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Murmured the count. Herbert gave several nods, and then he yawned once more. A busy night had left him with no energy left.

Count von Krolock inhaled and then breathed out softly as he pampered his son. “Sleepy, so sleepy…” Herbert whispered, allowing himself to lean against the count, his tiny palms clutched at the hem of his father’s coat. Alfred tended to bring him back to his chamber, but the count stopped him. The man rubbed Herbert’s back.

“There, there… Just sleep, I got you.”

Herbert’s eyes drifted closed when the count’s voice got softer and softer. The count held him close for a while, brushing his hair lovingly like those times when he was still a baby, until the man remembered he could have forgot Alfred. He apologized, but the younger man only worried:

“You look exhausted, father. Let me help you.” He said, reaching out his arms for the boy, but was immediately refused.

“A gentle heart as always, Alfred, but I would like to carry him for a few more moments.” Count von Krolock whispered, and Alfred was sensible enough to quickly withdraw. Still, he frowned, couldn’t read it if it was sorrow or happiness inside the count’s eyes, or maybe both. The count explained, “You see, it’s been so long since I…”

“I understand.” Alfred gave a compatible look. Yet he went on, chewing his lips nervously, “Have you figured out any cure, yet?”

“Unfortunately, no...” The count heaved a deep, long sigh, looking back at the son in his embrace.

“Do you want to…or want any of us to… inform him? I mean, you know… dad?”

As the words poured out the count averted his eyes. If he was embarrassed, he was trying not to show it. “He’s having enough issues on his own. I don’t want to bother him more with any of this.”

“You’ve been straining yourself, father.” Sighed Alfred, but firmly stated. “We can keep this problem confidental if you like, we will find a way soon. But for now you should rest.”

“But Alfred, I…”

“I’ll help you research today.” Insisted the young man. “You need to get some rest.”

“No, I can’t…”

“I suggest you using the bedroom instead of the coffin…” He didn’t give the man a chance to protest, for the first time Alfred knew it was right to speak up against a man bigger than him. “…and you can let Herbert sleep beside you if you like. Sarah has already retrieved for the day, she’s been excellent in controlling her hunger, and would never come near the boy without being supervised. Ludwig took his last patrol around here an hour ago, too, so… You can set your worries at rest.”


	8. Snake in the garden

Asmodeus hissed slightly as he slithered his way to the castle once more. It was unfair, he thought, that even though there had been the invention of streetlamps and such, he could still not able to make his way through the dark easily. The mountain winter even made everything worse, when there was even less light than in the cities and not all lamps here worked. The only good thing was probably that people had created stone pathways leading up to the castle. His reptile lower body would freeze into a stick had he got to crawl through the freezing snow.

A song led him along the stone wall to a small gate, entering the castle’s garden. The gate was locked, obviously, but it was made of iron bars, therefore, Asmodeus could see what was happening inside. To his expectation, it was a child that the high pitch voice belonged to.

“What a beautiful melody you’re singing.”

Stranger voice rising from nowhere made Herbert nearly gasp. The boy hurried to grab his racoon and darted his eyes, his heart hammering hard in his chest when he heard rustles behind the bushes near the garden gate. The voice went on, sour yet purring strangely sweet that sent shivers down Herbert’s spine, “Don’t be scared, I’m just a friend.”

“Friend?”

“Yes.” The voice drawled out, followed with a small hiss that Herbert didn’t quite notice. “I’m your imaginary friend.”

“I don’t remember any imaginary friend.” Pondered Herbert, narrowing his eyes like a cat as he recalled. “Are you inside my head or something?”

“Oh, yes, my child. You created me.”

“I did?”

“I came at nights to tell you stories when you was a baby and alone.” The voice murmured, sounded like it was pouting, and at this moment Herbert realized there was something like a snake curling outside the gate. “You forgot me, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know… Where are you?”

“A place where you can never see me.”

“But friends never hide from each other.”

“Oh, but I’m an imaginary friend, am I not?” Reasoned the voice, “How can an imaginary friend anymore ‘ _imaginary’_ if people can see him?”

“Then what’s your name? An imaginary friend must have a name. I’m Herbert.” Herbert innocently asked. The voice paused for the briefest of moments, then just cooed:

“I have no name, little one. I am… one of a kind.”

“One of a kind? What does it mean?”

The voice laughed, “It means that I’m very special.”

“Special? Like, you’re a superhuman? Or an angel? Are you an angel?” The boy began to sound excited.

“Yes, yes…” The voice hissed contentedly. “I’m an angel.”

“I knew you would arrive one day!” Exclaimed Herbert, bouncing on the ground. “You know, papa promised me an angel some years ago. You finally came! I’ll call you Mr. Angel.”

“Thank you, my child, that’s a very nice name.”

“Do you have magic? All angels have it.” The boy was quick to chirp like a bird in the early morning. “Can you fly? Can you change things with pixie dusts?”

The voice seemed to be taken aback, “Of course, I can fly. And I can do many, many more.”

“Can I see it? Please?” Snivelled Herbert. The voice only cooed:

“Oh, I’m afraid this moment is not very suitable. Some people may see us, and an angel must keep himself private to everybody except his only friend. But worry not, I have prepared a game for you.”

Herbert rounded his eyes, “A game? Really? For me?”

“While we’re playing I’ll show you the best magic tricks. If you reach the end of the game, I’ll grant you a wish.”

“A wish? Like, for anything?”

“Yes, you can wish for anything you want, even the most impossible things. Deal?”

“A wish that comes true. I guess I can give it to my papa.” The boy tilted his head as he thought. “Alright, it’s a deal.”

“Wonderful, fantastic!” The voice sounded beyond pleased. “Ready to play?”

“Yes!” Returned Herbert. The voice went on:

“Your first mission is to leave the castle.”

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Herbert crinkled his eyes as he smiled, heading back inside the castle, Pip skipping by his side. He would need to pack for his adventure ahead, with his most important things and leave when nobody noticed. His wish had to be a surprise. It was that moment when he bumped into his father.

“There you are, Herbert.”

The man seemed pleased to see him, he patted his son’s head and led the boy around the garden pond. The boy immediately forgot what he was doing and lean into the touch, wriggling playfully against his father’s palm. The count looked down with amusement, he crooned:

“You seem happy.”

“I’m always happy.” Herbert beamed as he skipped across the snow. “Can you carry me?”

The count stopped his paces. “I would love to, but not when you’re holding that… thing.” He somehow looked disdainful, pointing to the grey bundle in his son’s arms. Herbert giggled, holding his pet out and even shoved her close to his father.

“Pip? But she’s adorable!”

“No, thanks, please put it back where it came from.” The man’s lips twitched, raising a hand to push the animal back down. Pip as always was frustrated and tried to scratch, but Herbert didn’t fuss at all and gently put her on the ground again. She gave him a few headbutts before running through the kitchen back door. Herbert’s laughters soon rang when his father lifted him up, tickled him.

“The elves didn’t put any treasure in the tree stump.” The little boy was quick to chatter again. “But they left me a snow flower!”

“Really?” The count commented, heading to the front yard with his son clinging onto him. Herbert went on:

“And it was pretty! Pretty iced flower!”

“Did you pick it up?”

“No, I want you to see it with me. Can you come see it with me? Please?”

“Alright, alright, then let’s come see it.”

As their voices grew smaller and smaller, Asmodeus slowly made his way out of his hiding place. He spit at the locked iron gate and left, taking a quick scan inside and up the stone wall for the final time, a plan already imprinted in his mind as he gave a half smirk.

“You took my fledging. I’ll take yours.”


	9. The abduction

Herbert sneaked out from his bedroom when the sun hadn’t set and the castle was still sleeping soundly. He had drawn a map the night before, on which the only way to escape the castle was through the kitchen back door, since the main one in the hall was locked most of the times and the key was kept by the old butler. Herbert still found it hard to get accustomed to the man. The little boy shuddered as he thought, at least Mr. Koukol the butler was not mean to him like Ludwig, but getting past him during the day was not an easy task at all.

Every afternoon, Koukol would enjoy himself with some biscuits and tea, as Herbert noticed. The boy realized he would need to distract the old man from his favourite spot by the kitchen window, which made it impossible to get to the door without being seen, and Koukol even had eyes of a hawk. Inhaled deeply, Herbert, from where he was hiding behind the cupboard, prayed that his bird-shooting skill would help him and took out a gravel from his bag, tossed it to the other side of the kitchen. It flew unnoticed to the attched hall and landed on a vase on the nearest shelf, leading it to tumble and crash soon afterwards. Koukol was at once alarmed by the noise, he hurried to the scene and Herbert knew it was time he mimicked the squeaks of mice, for while Koukol’s eyes were still at their prime, his hearing, unfortunately, was not. As his plan worked and the old butler was busying himself finding the mouse, Herbert hopped out of his hiding spot and rushed to the back door, even had enough time to grab some butter biscuits from the plate.

The faint orange sky started to be tainted with purple when Herbert reached the garden. Nights came fast in winter, the boy hurried his feet to the stone wall in a breathtaking attempt. He knew this garden like the back of his palm, and therefore, he was certain those decorating rocks on the wall could be put in good use. Herbert was good at climbing, with ease he soon reached the top of the castle wall, looking out at the world with amazement in his eyes.

The sky kept getting dark.

.

.

When Count von Krolock realized what was happening, it was too late. Herbert, from where he was balancing himself on the wall, had already found his way down and in a blink of an eye jumped off it as if it was the last thing he had to do. The count shouted, taking a great leap over the stone wall to follow his son, but he never made it in time when now there were only footsteps printed on the thick snow, which obviously didn’t belong to Herbert. They soon transformed into an odd zigzag shaped line and lengthened towards the rocky pathway, heading to the village.

The count raced after. With great speed he followed the clear trail, but apparently he had been one step slower than his enemy. The abductor didn’t stop at all at any of the households, the trail he left led the count to the railway station down the hill. A train was about to depart, as if the abductor had been planning everything, from the smokestack already puffed out great billows of black smoke and it released a long, loud hiss of steam, together with the shrill call of the whistle, announcing that the train was ready to leave. Count von Krolock dodged through the crowds of people on the platform and in time hopped onto the last compartment, where he swore he had seen his son was brought in.

There weren’t a lot of passengers in the train, the silence among them caused them to notice the noises which the man just stumbled in created. Count von Krolock steadied himself in front of wandering eyes, oblivious to the movement of the train, he scanned the compartment to make sure his enemy was not disguing as any of these people.

“Sir, please show me your ticket.”

A firm hand on the count’s shoulder stopped him. A railway guard was looking at him expectantly, showing out his other hand in demand for a ticket. Count von Krolock, still not yet recovered from panting heavily, pretended to search through his coats and trousers for a thing he didn’t have.

“I’m afraid I lost it.” He lied, pulling the most pitiful face he could at the guard. “Is there any way I could purchase a new one?”

The guard firmly shook his head, “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t sell tickets aboard.”

“Are you going to kick me out, then?”

“As long as some of us may want to do it to the peasants, no, we won’t do that.” The guard sneered. “You pay a fine and come with me. We’ll let you off the train at the next stop.”

“As you wish, gentleman. Here.” The count nodded and handed some gold coins to the guard, which made his eyes glitter with something like greed and the corner of his lips curled. The count snorted. “And I’m not a peasant.”

“I see.” The guard smirked, counting the gold coins in his palm. They were sufficient for the legal fine and still enough for some more several drinks. He chuckled, “But you still need to come with me.”

As he finished the guard tugged at the count’s arm. Count von Krolock yielded to oblidge, planning to use his trick of mind when there was two of them, but in a blink of an eye he caught sight of a boy with familiar white hair. The boy seemed distressed, accompanied with him was another man, pulling the little one along the joint compartment ahead.

Count von Krolock couldn’t let that man have his way.

“Hey!”

Shouting of men rose when the count yanked himself off his captor and rushed to the next compartment, so hurried that he even crashed the car door with only a nudge of his arm. More guards were called to hold him back, at the same time they lurched at him, and together they pinned him down on the floor.

“Let me go! That man is taking my son!”

Count von Krolock shouted, wriggled between the iron grips put on his arms and legs and back. There were at least five guards handling him, but with ease the count flipped them over in front of the passengers’ astonished eyes and fled. The caused ruckus caught the stranger man’s ears and he took knowledge of Count von Krolock, immediately he flung the boy over his shoulder and ran through the compartments, didn’t bother to glance back at all whenever he bumped against anyone or knocked anything off. “People, that man took my son!” The man could hear the count’s roar right behind his ears.

“Asmodeus!”

Count von Krolock was panting heavily when his enemy was driven to a dead end before the driver booth. The boy in the man’s arms started to cry and attempted to flee, but Asmodeus took a great mane of his hair that made him wail louder. He was quite amused that the count seemed to falter at the sight.

“Let him go.” The count ordered, but his voice was desperate, more like begging, as his gaze shifted from his enemy to his sobbing son. Herbert tossed and turned in a fragile attempt to escape, only to get a harder pull at his hair and his knees nearly gave up. The boy whimpered:

“Papa, help me…”

“It’s alright, mein Liebling. Everything’s going to be fine.” The count quickly assured, before he fixed his attention back to Asmodeus. “Release the boy. I’ll do anything you want... **Please**.”

Asmodeus barked a laugh, his sour voice mingled with the rattling sound of the moving machine. “Oh the proud Count von Krolock, now begging under my feet like a dog he is.” He spitted, grinning. “But I’m afraid I don’t have the mercy to grant you that grace. An eye for an eye. A fledging for a fledging.”

“Asmodeus, you vile…”

“Now, now, save your strength. You may need it to deal with the approaching guards.”

Tutted Asmodeus, as rumbling foorsteps and yelling were getting louder and louder towards them. The man didn’t flinch one bit as the count launched at him, he dodged and opened the car’s door, and in a blink of an eye, he hauled Herbert and himself off the running train.

“Herbert!”


	10. Seperate

“No, you two are staying here!”

Ludwig’s voice was threatening when he tried to put Sarah and Alfred back in their places. Then he stormed away, dragging with him a simple suitcase that contained his own essential belongings, heading to the large main door. He left a note for Koukol with a few words to remind the old man to take care, before his younger siblings rushed to block his path.

“I’m not saying the second time, get back to your rooms!” Ordered Ludwig, stubbornly stepping ahead but continuosly got stopped by the other two. Sarah raised her voice, hands on her hips:

“We want to help!”

“Many thanks for your good intention, but I can’t risk it. It’s dangerous out there.” The man reasoned, his glare was cold and deadly as a warning, but the young lady wouldn’t have any of it. She went on:

“It’s because of the danger that we need to help each other!”

“A baby would only bring more troubles.” Mocked Ludwig. It only made Sarah and Alfred widen their eyes.

“We’re not babies! We’re old enough to take care of ourselves!” The girl was frustrated enough to explode, her hands wrung together in her agitation. Beside her, Alfred felt his guts churn, as he was in fact the youngest of them all, which meant, probably, the weakest of them. Sarah stomped closer to Ludwig and gawked up to him, “I’m able to break your neck if I desire now.”

“Right, right.” The man rolled his eyes, “And I’m able to slap you unconcious for years with only a snap of my fingers. I’m at least a good century older than you!”

“I don’t care!” Yelled Sarah. “Let us go with you, you may come in dire need of an assistant or two!”

“There’s nothing you two can do about this.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve known Asmodeus for as long as I can remember, and he’s not the kind of person that would spare your lives just because you’re children. Your strength is nothing compared to him, and this whole thing is not all about fighting.”

“If it is not, then what are you going to do?” Alfred for the first time spoke up, his brows knitted in genuine concern. The question made the older man think for a while and calmed him down a little bit. With his lips formed into a thin line, Ludwig heaved a long sigh:

“I’m going to talk with him. A compromise… So we can have Herbert back.”

“We can help compromise as well.” Persuaded Alfred, and Sarah couldn’t agree more. “You couln’t know what that man has in mind.”

“No. This whole thing happened because of my fault. I’m atonning for it.” Ludwig firmly said. “I can’t let Herbert suffer just because the wanted man is me. He’s my brother, and I…” He came to a halt, ruffling his hair, “I can’t let father be anymore miserable.”

Came an abrupt silence when there was something like compassion in the young duo’s eyes. At once, they fussed no more, and together, they whispered, “Ludwig… Herbert’s our family, too. No one in a family is left behind. Three is better than one.”

“But…”

“Please?”

At the sight in front of his eyes, Ludwig couldn’t define the twist inside his chest. He swallowed hard, and stared at the pleading gaze of his siblings. Herbert was the eldest, but now he was away, and so was father, Ludwig wasn’t sure if he could handle their responsibility just as well. It was too much for his shoulders, and he could never forgive himself if anything happened to these two. Sighing heavily, he cleared his mind, and a grumble escaped his throat:

“No.”

As he said, the man managed his way through the main door, didn’t slow down his pace to give the other two a chance to stop him. “This is for the best.” He snapped over his shoulder, before taking a great leap into the night sky.

Sarah and Alfred stood there in the middle of the front yard, where their brother just gave his hurrying take off. They were both too young to fly, giving in was all they could do, and they bored to watch until Ludwig’s shadow vanish between the dark clouds. Sarah stomped her feet.

“Meanie!” She pouted, hands curled into fists placed along her sides. “I can’t believe he abandons us! And even with no money! This is absurd! I want to go! Do you want to go?”

“Of course… But…” Stammered Alfred, which was soon cut off by the girl, who lurched desperately at him.

“Then please think of a solution, I want to give them a hand!” She pled. “We should not just stay here and wait, what if something really, really bad happened to them?”

“Well… I don’t think if this situation could get any worse…”

“Come on!” Groanned Sarah with a roll of her eyes. “You studied a lot, you’re smart, have you any ideas?”

Alfred blinked his eyes. He faltered, “Ludwig is right, we’re still young fledgings, Sarah, we can’t do much.”

“What? So you’re going to give up just like that?” Sarah raised her voice.

“N-No, I didn’t mean that!” Protested the young man. “But you see, we have nothing in our hands. I know you’re eager to help, but, think about it. It’s not wise to set off unprepared. I think it’s better to ask for other help.”

“What kind of help?”

“Any kind.” Shrugged Alfred, pulling a reluctant smile as he tugged the girl back inside the castle. Sarah huffed as she obeyed. It was terribly cold by now and strong winds started blowing, whatever they planned, it would be nicer to discuss inside where it was warm and safe. Alfred went on as he walked, somehow this time, the man seemed confident, “I’m certain there must be some other way for us to get out of here.”

“And what way have you had in mind already, genius?” Sarah sounded a little cocky, patting Alfred’s arm. The man tilted his head, pretended to dive into his thinking.

“I believe someone would be willing to pay for us to travel by train.”

“Really?” The girl rounded her eyes and stopped her paces. “Who?” She excitedly asked, “Koukol wouldn’t give away his salary for us to borrow, anyway. He’s even stricter than father. And my mum would ground me if I asked for too much.”

“Well… Don’t laugh.”

“Laugh? Why should I… wait… Don’t tell me…”

“Yes.”

Sarah’s chortles echoed through the large main hall:

“No way! Big dad?”

“Why not?” Alfred grinned and shrugged.

“We’re going to call him, and ask him for a cheque or something?”

“Well, that’s the plan.” Winked Alfred. “I believe he should be informed of our problem by now, it’s getting out of hand, after all, and we need as much help we can get as possible. Maybe he can wire us some money for the train. So, are you in? Unless you’re afraid of trains…”

“Trains are nice.” Sarah waved off. “But where are we going? How can we know the address of that so-called doctor…”

Words pouring out of the girl’s lips stopped when Alfred pulled a card out from his pocket. It was Asmodeus’ business card, the one that Ludwig casted away in disgust, but Alfred had kept it just in case they might need it like this moment. Sarah grinned like a Cheshire cat:

“Oh, Alfred, you’re the top of the class!”

.

.

“Herbert!”

Count von Krolock called as he flung himself out of the train. He lifted himself up in the air and flew after Asmodeus, with Herbert’s cries leading him through the blowing blizzard. The boy was making quite a fuss, together with Asmodeus’ poor sight view, in no long time the man had to land down before he lost his balance and fell off some cliff. The count followed him right after, but it was hard to figure out anything among the screaming wind and thick snow raging. Soon, the count found his eyes hurt and froze because of the frost.

“Looking for someone?”

Rumbling voice tickling on the nape of his neck made the count jump and he swirled back. Asmodeus’ grin welcomed him, following with a punch that he was in time able to dodge. As he stumbled forwards and gave his strike, Count von Krolock noticed Herbert was not by Asmodeus’ side anymore. Fully alarmed, he seized tight Asmodeus’ neck.

“Where is my son?”

The count roared, slamming his enemy’s head onto a rock, so hard that the man could have been killed if he was not an inhuman creature. But Asmodeus heed no care and only barked a laugh. “I’ve kept him somewhere secret. Maybe a little hide and seek would be fun!”

“Where is he?” Repeated the count, just to receive a squeeze around his whole body that forced him to release his hands and he immediately gasped. Asmodeus’ lower part without any warning had transformed into its python tail, squeezing the count tighter and tighter that made him think his organs might have crushed. The man’s laugh was muffled by the wind, but the satisfaction on his face was obvious at a distance so close and he mercilessly knocked the count onto the freezing ground.

“You don’t need to worry about the boy anymore. He’s mine now.” Declared Asmodeus, lifting the other man up in the air before shoving him upon the ground, or into the snow if he was lucky enough. The count choked and moaned, his head bleeded and burnt of being exposed, but barely did he speak had he been tortured again with the same method, leaving Asmodeus alone doing the wrestling.

“You should see yourself right now, your Excellency!”

The hybrid crooned, slowly he brought Count von Krolock close to face him again. The count was trembling, his clothes was dishivelled and he was covered in ice and snow that made him stiff like a rock. He couldn’t see straight when Asmodeus leaned in, and the man’s breath blew against his nose was enough to make him wince. Asmodeus sneered, “Pathetic.”

Count von Krolock had no stregth left to struggle. He heavily panted, trying to look away in a weak attempt to look for Herbert, but was forced back to see his enemy. Asmodeus observed him with amusement, his clawed hand reached out to seize the count’s neck and pushed his head turn to a side, when a contented chuckle escaped his throat.

Pain pierced through the count’s skin as sharp fangs sank into his neck. He whimpered and wiggled out of his trap, but it was all in vain when Asmodeus’ tail only squeezed tighter. A weird feeling tingled him. His vision immediately blurred and his eyelids couldn’t open however hard he struggled. He felt cold, so cold, never in his life had he felt this much freezing. His body went slump all at once, and from deep inside him, the count knew something had happened to his blood.

Asmodeus gave an audible smirk before releasing the count, letting him fall onto the snow like a discarded object. The count just sprawled there on his stomach, tattered and torn, the very last sensation left him numb, as the last thing he saw was his son being pulled away by a stranger.


	11. The journey begins

“To where?”

The ticket seller curtly asked, didn’t bother to look up at the man facing her. Three o’clock struck on the bell of the local church that was conveniently near to the station, and still she was digging at her tiring job. Ludwig narrowed his eyes at the dimly glowed destination sign.

“Berlin. One way, please.”

“Money.”

“Here. Thanks.”

As Ludwig paid he quickly grabbed his ticket and hurried to the waiting platform. It was stacked with people, leaving the restless ones no more places to rest their weary legs. The lanterns were flickering from where they were hanged upon the wooden walls, a sign that another blizzard was on its way before spring could finally settle. Small sounds carried far, rumbling sounds out of the people’s chattering were clearly audible in the deep dark night, and the faintest sounds of any train whistle preceeded Ludwig by a long time that made him curse. Ludwig pulled his coat tighter, half an hour had past when he reached inside his mini bag for his bottle of warm tea. It was when something bit him.

“Pip?”

The curling grey racoon gawked up when Ludwig had whispered her name. She yawned, trying to crawl outside. Ludwig hushed, quickly came to seal his bag.

“Hang in there, pet. You wouldn’t like it if they found out there’s an animal on the train.”

Pip whimpered, but eventually hid as the man went to join the people lining up. Shouts and noises of bumping grew large after times, mingling with the whistling of the guards they created an accord of disorderly melody which was deafening to say the least. The queue was long and exhausting, from where he was slowly making his way Ludwig turned to his mountain for a final glimpse, and only went on when the man behind him started to scowl.

Ludwig wouldn’t have any of that. A quick glance of his convex eyeballs was enough to send him aboard peacefully, and he relished retrieving to a lone booth.

The night sky was turning bright purple when Ludwig had gone accustomed to the moving of the train. Dawn would break in no long time, wearily he pulled down the curtain and prepared his cloak, before letting himself go slump in his chair. It was already bad enough the sun had never been his friend since those days living in the slums, a neighborhood clothed with darkness from clouds and shadows of taller buildings while the shirt on his back couldn’t keep out the chill. It was even worse now that the sun had turned into an enemy with his detestable heat.

“This is madness.” Grunted Ludwig, as he placed his obnoxious documents on the table. Profile of Dr. Asmodeus, some papers of law, and several letters between his father and the doctor, which he stole from his father’s drawer the day before. The profile was holograph, taken charge by Count von Krolock himself, for the man refused to trust the one he received from the Dark Council. It was written in the letters that the two men had been discussing Ludwig for months, in which Asmodeus’ stubborness in demanding his fledging back had become the Krolocks’ eyesore. Ludwig gritted, “Such a disgrace now that I begin to fear you.”

With that the young man crumbled the profile paper, tossed it unceremonously into his suitcase. The more he studied its contents, the more clouded his mind was. His sire offended him as both a protégé and a man of freedom, to whom his strength was paid at an absurdly high price. His boosted stamina was the achievment of a successful experiment, while his blind eye and the damnation of his finite life were the results of a failed one. Hitherto he had been grateful that his adoptive father had found him that early morning by the wood near Berlin.

From that time forward, Ludwig began to know what it felt like to have a family. A real one. He didn’t have to be a stray dog who haunted the by-street of shops at night to saddle loads of tools for his sire, who promised him a life where he wouldn’t have to fight for bread, which turned out to be all deception. He didn’t have to suffer days of agony when whatever Asmodeus had injected into his body started to kick in, leaving him a screaming monster who was locked under the basement. His father would not judge him for wanting to fight instead of to write. Whenever his hunger grew out of control the older man would just hold him until he was calm enough, and when father wasn’t there, he still had his elder brother. It swelled his indignation thinking about returning to his old place.

“Would you like tea or coffee? Or maybe some snack?”

A sweet voice somehow helped clear the cloud in Ludwig’s mind and he sprang up from where he was bundling himself in his patted coat. There was a hearty, healthy, fair old lady standing by his car’s door, looking expectantly at Ludwig. The man approached and gave her a knowing nod, before glancing down to her trolley.

“Do you sell coffee in parcels?”

“I think there’s some.” The lady scrambled through the bunches of refreshments, a swift and willing manner that she held. She exclaimed brightly once she’d found several packs wrapped by dark brown paper between the bitscuits, smiling, she asked, “How many parcels do you want?”

“Five.” Briefly said Ludwig. “And five of this, too, please.” He pointed to a small package of peanuts. The lady crooned:

“Quite a coffee addict, aren’t you? You remind me of my son.”

“Really?”

“He’s just about your age. Looking healthy and athletic like you, but can’t really function without caffeine.” She laughed. “And even with that wavy long hair! Seeing you here today is such a cute coincidence. You helps me feel a little less homesick.”

“Oh…” Babbled Luwig. “Thank you, I guess… I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I brewed this pot of coffee myself as well. Would you like a cup?” Continued the lady.

“Yes, please.” was the reply.

The lady’s smile was welcoming and bright. It gave the young man a sudden feeling of secured, as if he was a child and at home, talking to his beloved mother about his favourite food, though he never knew how the woman looked like. It was like a small replacement of the count, he had thought. The older man was solemn and didn’t know how to smile, but he was quite soft even though he didn’t want to admit it, who had been both a father and a mother to Herbert and him. Ludwig settled back into his seat with a strange heat warmed up his chest. He felt happy, if “happy” was the right word to describe, even just a little bit.


	12. Saved

It was a fine dry evening when Count von Krolock came to his conciousness. Frost in the air, the window of the strange room he was put in, unshaken by any wind, drew a square pattern of light and shadow from the moonlight outside. The blizzard had passed. The room was a warm place lit up by a stone fire hearth and pumpkin lanterns, decorated with nicely rustic furniture and a simple dark carpet, together with small flowerpots on the nightstands and something hanged on the walls that smelled like herbs.

His senses slowly came back as he lay motionless on the single bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. It was so quiet that the silence was deafening, only the tickling of the clock and the sound of cracking flame could slip into his ears. He was grateful that the herbs was soothing him with their light smell so nicely, making his muscles relaxed and laying in one position for so long didn’t feel really that sore.

By ten o’clock, which meant an hour and a half later, the seemed to be suffocating quietness was broken by the so small sound of the door creaked open. Entered a lady, tall and slim in stature, incisive and subtle, with a faint smile always wore on her face. The slight wrinkles of her late middle ages didn’t prevent her eyes from sparkling, the two orbs that matched her extremely pale skin troubled the count. She was well aware of her guest’s awakening, swiftly she strode across the room to settle by his side. With a low voice and a friendly tone, she spoke:

“I see that you’re finally awake.”

“Where am I?” Count von Krolock stirred, but soon realized he couldn’t. There was this agony burried deep inside his chest that baffled him, a moan choked from his throat, as he managed to turn his head and faced the woman. Her eyes were sharp when she stared back at him, a ruined beauty who was contemptuous and original with fierce burning in her cold eyes. She could be the real head of a family if she happened to have one, for so far it seemed that she was the only person to dwell in this accommodation.

“Romania, of course.” She shrugged, idly poured from the steaming pot on the nearby table a cup of tea. The count grumbled to himself, forcing a smile, he said:

“You sure have a witty sense of humour.”

“You’re safe now, that’s all you need to know.” Replied the lady. She put some strange herbs with powder into her cup and stirred, from which wafting in the scent of summer that she inhaled with a face of approval. When the cup was warm enough, she handed it to the count, which made him gawk up with surprise. “Drink it.” She said.

“What is this?” Asked the count, sniffing cautiously at the liquid brought near his nose.

“Medicine.”

“And what is it for, then?”

“For your recovering, of course.” The lady was patient. “You were suffering from severe internal bleeding, and have three broken ribs. Your wound had been infected and reeked of foul venom when I brought you here. It’s been a day before you woke up.”

“I see.” was the reply. “I can’t move. Are you a doctor?”

“I tend to the title of a healer. But if you prefer to address me like what most people do, I wouldn’t mind. There aren’t many differences. What matters now is that you’re alive. Drink this tea, it will be much help for your healing.”

The tea was quite pleasant, to the count’s relief, with a soft taste didn’t linger much on his tongue even after he took so many a sip with difficulty. It eased the pain in his chest somehow, and the man didn’t feel so burdened like earlier. He laid back between the pillows after he was done, with a heavy sigh and a clouded brow he faced the wall next to him.

“You seem to be in sombre spirits.” Commented the lady, gathering her cup and putting it neatly in a tray. “A mournful heart might be quite troubling. Is there anything you’d like to share, to get your troubles off your mind? I suppose there must be things I can help.”

The count didn’t turn his head when he asked:

“And why should I confide in you, a stranger?”

“A healer’s job is not only to cure physical wounds, gentleman. We prone to ease the mental and spiritual ones as well.”

The count managed, “How long must I stay here?”

“A few days, I’m afraid. My apology if I couldn’t be an ideal hostess.”

“Are there any ways to hasten the process?”

“I’m doing the best I can, any further attempts could make things worse. It’s a miracle you’re still… alive and… already healing faster than… others...”

The lady appeared to hesitate. It alarmed the count, and he turned his head to fix his gaze on her once more. “You are stammering, and I can hear your heart pumping fast. You are nervous, milady. Is there something I should know?”

There was not a faintest possibility that the lady was afraid of the count, or any men throughout her life, especially not when the man in front of her eyes was severly wounded and couldn’t even lift his arm. As if upon some sudden reflection, fronted about with an air of defiance, the pair stared at each other pretty fixedly for a few seconds, with the count expectantly tilted his head. The lady held her chin high, finally, she spoke:

“I believe it’s unwise to assume anything about anyone before getting to know them.”

“I suppose. And what of that?”

The lady went on telling, “When I found you in the blizzard, your face was burried in the snow. It… it burned when you were turned and exposed to the sunlight. Your injury showed that you were attacked by some kind of reptile, which is not usual, either, for reptiles hibernate throughout winter. A normal human also could not survive such venomous bite.”

“Is that so? Then what is your conclusion?”

“I suppose you encountered a monster. Kind of.”

“Monster?” Chuckled the count. “You believe in them?”

“I’ve lived long enough to believe in many inhuman creatures.” The lady smiled as if it was the most natural thing to say. The count hummed:

“Interesting. Then what are you going to say about me, for surviving the attack from such a beast?”

“I will say that you have quite impressive strength.”

That was the amount of information that Count von Krolock needed, as he knew the lady was, much probably on purpose, avoiding the true answer from him. However, his tense ebbed away and he gave a languid smile. Inhaled deeply, he sighed:

“Thank you for keeping me out of the sun.”

There was a smile returned. “That’s what our kind should do to each other, isn’t it?”

With that the lady winked, and then she stood up, paying her guest a comptaible look before biding her leaving. The count tended to ask, but she was already at the door. Glancing back briefly, she hushed, “Now, get some rest. We all know what we know.”


	13. The lady in black

It was late in the afternoon, when the strange lady found her way back to the room where she put her guest in, in which it surprised her that the man had now been able to stand, and he was leaning against the table where he studied one of her pumpkin lanterns. He was diving in his thoughts, didn’t seem to notice the presence of her, until she cleared her thoat and closed the door.

“Good afternoon.” He started, his voice a low and husky sound.

“Good afternoon.” Returned the lady. “You seem to be very amused by the jack-o-lanterns.”

“Indeed. They look really good for Halloween.” Chuckled the count. “But I believe that season is far past, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I always try to get my home in the Halloween mood.” Crooned the lady, sounded a little proud, as she crossed her arms before her chest with a straight and tall posture, letting her frame adorned by the tight black hobble dress that she always loved to wear. Count von Krolock had to laugh:

“You sure do.”

“These lanterns look better when night comes.” The lady took hold of a pumpkin and turned the side where it was carved into a funny face to the count, brightly, she smiled, “Gorgeous once they’re lit up. This one looks just like my son.”

“Oh. That’s… fascinating.”

The count commented, and he raised his brow. The lady was a little eccentric, spookily eccentric, he had to fear, showing through her sense of humour and the decorations in her house, but then, wasn’t he as much peculiar as that, and what was him anyway to ever judge her? At least she was amicable, much too friendly for a subtle looking lady like this. This little spirit of temper was somewhat of a relief to the count before he slowly paced around the round table. It troubled him when it flicked into his mind that despite the lady’s declaration of being a medic, there wasn’t a trace of technology which was commonly used by doctors nowadays. On the other hand, she had quite a collection of plants and herbs, which made her look more of a tribal doctor.

But then, tribal or not, it was still not normal at all for a mere human to be able to save him from a vampire hybrid’s lethal bite. Besides, she did drop him quite a hint before she left.

“What did you use for my treatment, may I ask?”

“And why, gentleman, are you curious?” The lady raised her brows.

“A patient has the right to know what’s in their medicine.” Shrugged the count. “It’s strange not to see any drugs, medical cabinets or even a first aid kit in the house of a doctor.”

The lady smirked:

“There’s black tea, dry flowers ground into powder, and some herbs. Natural treatment. What are you expecting?”

“I remember the plant you put in my tea yesterday.” Returned the count. “I’ve read about it. Blooms at night, exquisitely poisionous that a single petal could kill a horse if eaten. It’ll only turn into a cure if a certain spell was made. A norman human will not be able to create such a remedy, unless…”

“Unless?” The lady began to be amused.

“Unless that person is granted with particular power. A witch, perhaps, or a magician.”

“And are you trying to insult me with those titles?” The lady crooned. “I know there’s an enormous number of men who accused women of being witches just to bring them to the stake later.”

The count waved off:

“I would never do such a thing to a respectful lady. I just want to figure everything out.”

“I see. And you are assuming that I hold the power of… magic?”

“You can say it that way.” The count languidly, yet cheekily, smiled. The lady laughed:

“I didn’t think you were someone who would believe in magic.”

“Disdainful to remember, but have to say, I had a not very pleasant experience with witches date back to some years earlier. You yourself believe in monsters. Is it odd of me to believe in other unearthly things?”

“Now that we’re going somewhere.” The lady’s lips curled, and she strode towards the table. The count managed to stand up still when the pair confronted, trying to carry their conversation off as gaily as he could, but there was a pain still throbbing in his chest that weighted him down, and the man had to grasp the wooden curve to support his body. Still with that straight posture of her and arms crossed in front of her chest, the lady grinned, “You’ve always known that plant is poisionous. Why, when you decided to trust me last night and probably when you had assumed me to be doing witchcraft?”

“You dragged me out of the blizzard. If I’m doomed to die then I would have been ashes to ashes.”

“I suppose there’s nothing I can hide from your eyes now, isn’t it?”

“That’s pretty flattering.” Chuckled the count.

“I see you feel as I do.” Said the lady. “Yes, I am a witch, if “witch” is the one word that you can relate most. I would call it a grace, a present that I was granted the day I was turned, and have been nurturing with utmost dedicacy. Though, I have to say, my purposes and ways to perform are a little different from my other fellows.”

“It’s an honour to chance on one of the witchcraft fellows who has come through so much for me. The outside at days is really a damnable place for our kind, if it weren’t for you, I would have been devastated.” Replied the count with a slight bow. “However, there’s still one more thing that’s troubling me.”

“Then let’s hear it.” Said the lady.

“You did mention that you were once turned, and also is one of our kind, as you claimed yourself to be last night. But you found me in the middle of the day, which has been leaving me thinking. Is there any chance you were born in the Carpathians?”

“My, my, a man of culture.” The lady tutted. “You must be reading a lot. Not many know about our species, I’m quite pleased that you’re one of a kind, gentleman.”

“Well…” Hummed the count. “I have a… friend. He’s one of you as well, to whom I owed this grand piece of knowledge. He’s the fellow that anybody could have to do with, and in fact, you somehow remind me of him.”

“I guess that’s a compliment.”

“Indeed.” Said the count.

“And how do I remind you of your friend?”

“He has an equal hospitable manner, a man who has an approved tolerance for others, though he also has the habit to be a little bit highly strung sometimes, yet in any extremity will incline to help rather than to reprove. And by excellent fortune, his eyes would match a skintone that’s extremely pale, which I can obviously see, that you’re having.”

Light beaconed from the depth of the lady’s eyes as she reflected a little, looking in the fire. “I would love to incline to making acquaintance with that friend of yours.”

“And I would warn it’s hard to bear his childishness sometimes.” The count barked a soft laugh, but immediately baffled by a coughing fit that was hoarse and dry. The lady rushed next to him, in time to wide her eyes at the dark blood he spewed into his handkerchief.

“Oh no.” She muttered.

It was getting dark when Count von Krolock was forced to rest on the side of his bed. The healer boiled another pot of tea, mumbling strange words as she stirred the liquid with her dry flowers and black leaves, her face a solid picture of disquietude. The smell of the medicine was more pungent this time, its surface swirled with milky foams imitating the clouds on the sky, as the lady hurried to pour down a cup.

“How do you feel?” Asked the lady, after the count had done with his struggling gulfing his herbal medicine. He panted and paled. It was alarming to see an undead so ill that his normal pallor went entirely white.

“Suffocated.” Choked out the count, as he spoke with a voice which was husky, whispering and somewhat broken. “The venom did that, didn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.” Hushed the lady, as she put a comforting hand on the man’s back. There was faint light glowed from her palm, which brought the count warmth that kept him from the sudden chill that made him tremble. “But worry not, it’s alright now. Your body was only coping with the very last drops of it.”

“Good to hear.” Muttered the count.

“Whatever attacked you, anyway?” Asked the lady.

“There was a python. A big one.”

“Impossible.” was what she exclaimed. “Pythons don’t have venom.”

“But this one does.” The count gritted, much disdainfully. “He’s a mixed-blood, some hellish hybrid of a vampire and a naga.”

“I’ve read of vampiric hybrids, but I never thought there would be any near here.”

“He’s not from here.” The count coughed again. “There’re some… personal issues between him and me that need discussing.”

“I doubt it went on well.”

“Obviously, isn’t it?” Count von Krolock barked another laugh, a laugh which was dreadfully broken with no trace of joy. The usual gloom, in a second, veiled his face like the curtains that clothed the window. “We could never agree on anything. Now I’m stuck here, useless, while he…”

The lady hanged on his every words, waiting for him to finish his story. The count heaved an irrepressible sigh, “He’s taken my son.”

“Oh dear, no…” Whispered the lady. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Is there any chance to hasten my process?” Asked the count again. He began to sniff, his eyes were pleading to leave, but the lady couldn’t find it in her responsibility to allow him.

“You’re already healing at a remarkable speed.” Assured the lady. “There’s nothing more I can do, a hasty cure could become a two-bladed knife and slaughter you when you are least expected. I will never be able to forgive myself if you cough out blood again and collaspe in the snow. It would be better, my good man, if you’re patient a little more.”


	14. Anze

Six o’clock struck on the bell of the church when Anze Afanas found his way back to his office, a place located in a hard-working skyscrapper which never slept at night. The usual face of his diligent secretary who doubled as an assistant welcomed him, a small yet vivacious lady she was, a pride that everyone would look up to. She was at the other side of the room when he opened the door, surrounded by stacks of documents of an enterprise in three bustling months in a row. Black ink was smeared when she ended her last signature with a significant bold dot, before she swiftly rose to her feet, as she handed her boss the reports of the day.

Anze studied the papers attentively, “So far so good”, chuckled the man to himself, as he seemed pretty pleased at the rising chart in bright red colours. Turning onto another page, he asked, “Any important news from today?”

“Yes, there’ll be a meeting with the Addams Company by eight o’clock, tomorrow morning at the Morte Hotel. You have to attend.” Returned the secretary. “We’re only one step from getting a contract with them, they absolutely are very fond of the quality and the variety of our vehicle accessories. I’ve enclosed your invitation letter here.”

“Good.” Hummed the man. “Anything else? And news from the other departments?”

“We have a new big customer called Dr. Asmodeus registered to our membership just last week. He’s interested in our physic electronics and has been buying them in large amounts, of course with a legal license. About other departments Monsieur Tuna bid his retirement this morning, which on behalf of you I did write him a goodbye letter with a bottle of whiskey as a gift. I’ve made sure they’re all counted in this month expenses. Lastly, later this evening a gentleman phoned you via your personal telephone in the office. He did leave a message, which I’ve enclosed as well here, and…”

“I’m afraid I’m leaving early tonight.” Anze put on his gloves and coat as he piped in. The week had been busy enough, as weekends were at the door the old man just wished to go home. “Is that all?” He checked.

“Yes, that’s all.” Replied the secretary, quite blankly. The man hummed:

“Good, I’ll return the phone call by tomorrow night. Oh… my apology, who is this gentleman?”

“He went by the name Alfred, of the von Krolocks.”

“Alfred…?” Mumbled Anze, coming to a halt. He opened the note which his assistant had handed him, beautiful curvy handwriting yet knocked him in the back of his skull that forced him to go slump in the cushion of his office chair. Briskly, somewhat reluctantly, he gawked up at his secretary, and thickly, he said, “Nathalie, be a lamb, darling, won’t you go brew me a coffee?”

“Of course, sir.” Without any interogation the lady nodded, readied to the door. “With plain milk and six sugar cubes as usual?”

“As usual.” Returned the man, approved with a clack of the door being locked. Leaning himself onto his desk Anze pondered, as he picked up his phone, dialed the familiar numbers and waited restlessly at the never-ending rings. After a few brief moments which felt like hours, a soft voice spoke up:

“Hello?”

“Alfred.” Anze called, recognizing to whom the gasping voice belonged. “Alfred, is that you?”

“Sir Afanas?”

“Yes, it’s me, Alfred.” Frowned the man. “You phoned me this evening, and left me a message of an urgency gone wrong. My boy, what happened? Are you alright?”

“Nothing happened to me, sir, or Sarah… or Koukol.” The young man replied. “But… I’m afraid it was not the same with the others. It’s a long story, do you have a moment?”

“Of course. Please, tell me what’s going on. You sound beyond nervous.”

“Father wants us to keep it a secret in order not to worry you. But… things are getting out of hand, and I believe it’s time you knew about it…”

Anze sat awhile when Alfred went on telling him everything, on his face the solid pale of pertrifying, the man didn’t realize he was scratching the desk surface like a cat on hot bricks. As his story ended the young man heaved a dreadful sigh, “We don’t know what to do. We need your help”, he pled, and it was that moment when Anze decided it was wise to plan his leaving early that night.

“Alfred, listen. I know you are restless just like me, but this time I doubt we are getting any support from the devil. You two are staying right at your place.” The older man ordered through the phone, following with an expected protest:

“We can’t!” Whined Alfred, “It’s bad enough that everyone is doing everything on their own, and it’s a mess!”

“I’m not saying you can’t do anything, my boy, just stay at home for now. I’m going back to you.”

“But we can’t wait any longer! Please, it’s urgent! The train from you…”

“Just trust me.” Declared Anze. “Stay home. I’ll be there before you know it.”

And the man hung up with a heavy heart, not giving the other man a tiny chance to speak back against him. The door opened, appeared his secretary again with a newly brewed hot coffee in her hands, how wide her eyes were as her boss grabbed his belongings and hurried to dash out his office. “I’m sorry, Nathalie!” He announced, gliding swiftly enough not to knock on the young lady during his way. “But I have to leave for some time. It’s utmost urgent. Drink the coffee, or drain it, whatever you want to do with it!”

“But… But what about the meeting tomorrow?” The lady raised her voice.

“Cancel it! Put it on delay. I’ll be back as soon as possible!”

“Sir, you can’t do that! We’ve gone so far, the Addams would be raging with this impromptu absence! What am I going to tell them?”

“You’re clever, Nathalie.” As he’d reached the stairs Anze shouted back. “Think! Come up with any ideas! I’ll give you a raise that worths your effort!”

And with that Anze left his assistant with a dramatic roll of her eyes and a confusing coffee in her hands. The man headed down the stairs crowded with bustling officers, by excellent good fortune he found himself a dark corner where no one could be seen. In a blink of an eye, a one-tenth of a second, he disappeared, vanished into thin air with a faint swirls of black smoke.

The yell of Sarah alarmed all of them, including Anze, when the man from out of nowhere appeared in the middle of the Krolocks’ library. Rounded eyes with amazement, the duo came to ask, still too astonished to pull off a proper sentence:

“How… How did you…”

“Teleport.” Shrugged Anze, pulling the calmest face ever. He dug straight into the matter at hand, “But it’s nothing you should worry about at this moment. Is Koukol informed of our problem?”

“Not really. Father ordered us to tell nothing to him, as he’s having enough work to handle around the castle.” Replied Alfred. Anze sounded pleased:

“Good, then keep it that way. I will inform him you two are going on a trip.”

“Really? A trip?” Beamed Sarah, as the young girl started bouncing up and down. “We’re allowed to go?”

“Yes, but remember that this is not a vacation. Whatever creature that snake you told me about is out there and I want to keep you under the utmost safety.”

“So, are we going by train?” Asked Alfred.

“I’m afraid it’s the fastest way to get out of here. You’re still too young to fly, and teleporting is even more dangerous to newly-born fledgings. I’ll hand you the money to journey from here.”

“Hand us?” Sarah tilted her head. “But you’re here already! Does that mean you’re not travelling with us?”

“There’s a place I need to drop by first.” Returned the man. “I will catch up later, but it wouldn’t take long. Let me jot down the address for you.”

“What address?” Pondered Alfred. “I have the address of that man here.”

“Of course, I’m aware of it, my boy, but we’re obviously not going straight to his den, aren’t we? We need our shelter. And this will be one.” As he’d scribbled down the man handed Alfred a small piece of paper, which the younger one kept carefully in his pocket. “Now pack your things, we can’t waste any more time. Remember, buy tickets, get on the train straight to Berlin and find this address, stay there until I find you. Understood?”

“Understood.” Nodded the duo. Anze went on:

“One more important thing. Remember your cloaks. And what are you taught about hunting?”

“That we are not allowed to kill or turn the victims at once, because if everybody does that there will be no more food for us in no long time.” Replied the duo spontanuosly. It made the other man laugh.

“Good.” He praised. “Now you’ve known everything, may you excuse me. I trust you to set off this journey on your own.”


	15. The healer’s son

It was a peaceful late night when Anze reached the cottage in the suburb not far from the lowland cities, his way lay through a part of town where there was literally nothing to be seen but lamps. It had been a habit of him to visit this place from time to time, a nice wooden rustic house in old medieval style, surrounded by a blooming garden whatever season it was and oak barriers. The wind chime clank when he playfully touched it, letting the nostalgic melody fly with the softly blowing wind.

A middle aged lady welcomed him after a few knockings. Upon a warm reflection, brightfullness were exchanged from one’s smile to the other’s, their eyes alligned, and one single breath after Anze lurched forwards to hold the lady in a tight embrace.

“Mother!” He wheezled, lifting her up in the air and spun, all of which led her to burst into a laughing fit as always. “It’s been a long time!” He cherished.

“You devilish little creature, what a surprise!” Choked out the lady through her tears. As the man put her down she fondled his face, lovingly pinching his cheek. “It’s good to see you again!”

“I’m glad to see you, too, mother.” Beamed the man. “How do you do?”

“How do you do? Of course I’m managing everything well! You know me. There’re few things that can trouble this fussy old woman.” The lady cocked her brow. “But what about you? Oh, poor thing. Look how skinny you’ve got while you were away!”

“Please, mother, it’s just your thinking!” Giggled Anze. “I’m still as healthy as I am!”

“But you’re still too gaunt to my eyes, you little devil.” Murumured the lady. It could be a little tiny bit annoying sometimes with a mother fussing around, but most of the times, Anze would relish in being pampered like this. As she led him to the living room, she smiled, “Come have a seat. I didn’t expect you to pay me a visit until new year comes.”

“A pleasant surprise, isn’t it? Are you happy to see me?”

“How can’t I, then? Are you going to stay for long?”

“Well… I’m afraid I can only swing by this time.” Anze scratched his head, as he mumbled and idled in the plush armchair by the fireplace. “You know… work.” He sighed.

The man’s answer gave the lady her once in a while sombre spririts, and she stood facing him without a sign of relish on her face. It was a custom of her son, as she herself had forged him into when he’d just finished up his study, to be away from her home to take care of the family legacy and the man would keep in touch with her through letters every month, until he took his usual days off at the event of the Full Moon and her whole family would gratefully gather around in the garden. At least her son never keep from her anything, she thought.

“Work, work...” The lady’s face fell and she her deep voice drawled. “You’re always on the run like you’re running out of time. I just thought you were going to return home earlier for the Full Moon. Yet…” She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Both of you and your sister Jinx. Don’t you two see you’re getting quite like your father?”

Anze leaned back against his chair, shifting his eyes around, he mumbled, “I thought you said you’d never want to mention him again.”

“I said I never wanted **you** or **your sister** to ever mention him again. Not me.”

“Oh… Alright. I’m sorry. But this time it’s real urgency, mother.”

“Is that so?” She crossed her arms. “And what is that urgency, if I may querry?”

“It’s… not really suitable to talk about it right now, I suppose.” Stammered the man. The lady widened her eyes.

“You never hid anything from me, Anze.”

“I’m not hiding anything from you. It’s just something I’ll tell you when the time is right. I will, I promise. I… I’ll return and run errands for you as soon as I’m done, as an apology.”

“Oh…? Very well, then.” The lady clapped her hands. “You’d better mark your words and stay here for several months afterwards to make up for this.” She narrowed her eyes. “Did you just teleport from somewhere again?”

“How do you know?” Anze looked up.

“I am your mother, Anze. Of course I know!” The lady sounded offended, hands on her hips. It made the man cringe and he sank deeper into his seat. “Not to mention that you always get really, terribly pale after you teleported.”

“I’m just a little tired.” Pouted her son. “You need not to worry so much, I’m not a ten-year-old anymore. I’m old.”

“Even if you’re old you can’t be as old as me.” Sulked the lady. “You’re feeling dizzy, aren’t you?”

“Dizzy? Well… yes… I believe you’re right.” Muttered the man, clutching at the back of his skull. However hard he would like to deny, Anze had to admit teleporting caused him many a few side effects that resulted in uncomfortable conditions. The lady chuckled and crossed her arms again.

“You should stay here for the night. I will get you some amaranth greens right away. Do you think you could do that for me?”

“I guess one night doesn’t kill.” Anze grinned, and it made his mother have to chortle. She strode across the room to reach for her hat and coat. “Where are you going?” Asked her son.

“To the market, of course. You can’t find any amaranth grow in this cold weather.”

“But you have a magic garden.”

“I want to see if there’s anything else worths buying.”

“Oh, alright. Have a safe trip.” Anze murmured with a droopy voice, didn’t bother to query more about his mother’s intention. As he yawned the man thought he could sleep for a whole week if he was allowed to. “Can I use… you know, that room where you keep the herbs?”

“Why? You have a bedroom.”

“It smells nice there, and I love the bed.”

“I’m afraid that room is occupied at the moment.” Returned the lady. Anze sat straight back in his chair.

“There’s a patient?”

“He’s been here for a couple of days.” Nodded she. “The weirdest I’ve ever got. If you don’t mind, could you check on him for a second for me? Just to make sure he’s not sneaking out again.”

“Sneaking out? If he’s here then he should know he’s sick or something.” Laughed out Anze softly. “How old is he? Ten?”

“He confided in me quite a complicating plight, but then, yes, he has a thick skull.” The lady chuckled. “In case you have to find him, which is the worst scenario, but he couldn’t be far, anyway, that’s a man at your height, long hair, and is wearing old fashioned outfit. I don’t think there’s anyone like that around here, thus, you’ll know when you see him.”

“Interesting.” Anze cheekily smiled. “You rarely talk behind your patients’ backs like this... And if he’s still in the sick room?”

“Watch over him for a minute and help him with some black tea. He needs it.”

“Sure, no problem.” Nodded Anze. He winked.

“You can use the divan. Quite of a suffice alternative of the bed.” The lady put on her hat neatly and grabbed her basket. “I think the man would appreciate some company.”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, Anze, please.” She rolled her eyes as she headed to the door. “Don’t woo the patient this time, will you?”

.

.

“Are we there yet?”

“Sarah, you’ve been asking that question for like, ten times already, in just half an hour!”

Exclaimed Alfred, as he turned and tossed in his blanket on the upper of the bunk beds. A couple of days had past that were enduringly long to the young duo’s patience, and still they had to keep on standing the rocking to and fro of the machine that belonged to the train they hopped on. The young girl muttered, she sulked, “But we’ve been travelling for ages! We should be there already!”

“I know you’re restless, but keep on asking doesn’t help us getting there faster.”

“But what if?”

“Come on, it’s out of the question.” Groaned the young man. “Why don’t you get some sleep? Time flies when you sleep.”

“But I’ve been sleeping!” Sarah squeaked again. “I’m not feeling sleepy anymore.”

“I have a book in the suitcase if you want to kill the time.” As he instructed Alfred leaned against his mattress barrier, looking down at the girl. His sunken eyes blinked before he he went on, “I know how you feel, but I’m sorry… I’m really, really sleepy by now. Exhausted...”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” The girl softly said. “Are you alright?”

“I wish I am.”

“I heard you moan yesterday, did you have nightmares?”

“I suppose.” Yawned Alfred. “I’ve been seeing… things.”

“Things?”

“Uh-huh.” Mumbled Alfred as he pressed his face against the mattress. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Like… ghosts?”

“Something like that. I’ll try to describe them to you once I’ve sobered up. For now, I only could say my vision is distorted… Not always. But sometimes I will see them again, and everything’s red, and it’s just horrible.”

“Oh… Sorry to hear that.” Said Sarah, slowly climbing out of the bunk beds’ bottom. She put on her convenient slippers, and she asked, “Are you hungry? You seem not only in need of a good sleep but also something for your stomach.”

“I don’t know. My belly is rumbling but I’m not feeling any real desire for food.”

“Oh, poor you, you’re sick, I know it.” Muttered Sarah. “Sick of the terrible nightmares. I suffered from them when a was a child, too. They seem real, but people always assume that I was hallucinating. But don’t worry, I got you. I’ll get you some blood. Just give me a second.”

As she proudly smiled the girl tended to open the car door. Weakly, Alfred called, “Sarah?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Not at all. We’re good friends, aren’t we?”

“Best friends.” Smiled the young man.

“Get some rest. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”

“Where are you going to get the blood?” Alfred sounded concerned. The girl chuckled:

“The kitchen booth, of course. There must be some duck blood pudding or rare meat in that place. Don’t worry, I remember that you’re a vegetarian.”


	16. Confrontation

The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled out suddenly louder as they turned from the other side of the door. Count von Krolock, from where he was bundling himself up inside a blanket by the small fire, didn’t bother to find out who was making their way towards him. The steps were heavy, but they were fast, strolling across the room and he could hear distinctly the sound of someone brewing a pot of tea. A deep dulcet voice started:

“Good evening. You must be the current patient.”

“Good evening.” Returned the count, only shifted himself to sink deeper into his seat. The voice went on, mingling with the clanking sound of spoon stirring inside the teacup:

“I’m afraid my mother, the healer…” He corrected himself, “is going out shopping for some time. I’ll be her replacement at this moment. Please forgive me if I unintentionally did anything which would offend you.”

As he spoke his footsteps grew nearer and nearer. In his haze the count didn’t recognize to whom that voice belonged to, his mind was busying with his own issues, until the seemed-to-be healer’s son approached and sat on the armchair opposite him. Raising voice led him to gawk up.

“Johannes?”

“You?”

Count von Krolock shrank back with a hissing intake of the breath. But his embarrassment was only momentary, and though he did not look the other man in the face, he went on coolly enough, “What are you doing here… **Anze** …?”

“I should be the one who asks you.” Replied the man, a picture of solid concern painted over his cheerful face. “How come you got here? What happened to you?”

“It’s… it’s not your business. You need not to worry.” Returned the count, blankly.

“Of course I’m worried! You’re wounded, aren’t you?” The other man raised his voice, as he flew off the handle the tea was left cold and he reached out to grab at the count’s blanket. Alarmed, the younger man tightened himself, he hissed:

“Don’t touch me!”

At the shout Anze proceeded to hesitate, and then, fronted about with an air of defiance, the pair stared at each other pretty fixedly for a few seconds. The older man gulfed nothing inside his throat, his gaze aimed attentively at the count that made him wince and curl himself in some kind of defense. The count’s face was clouded with a knitted frown, like a man restored from death – which was, in fact, true – his skin so pale even under the warm light troubled Anze. Breathed in deeply, the older man bowed his head:

“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

The count only stared at him, didn’t ease his frown just yet. The other man went on, “I was just worried about you. May I… May I see your wound?”

“It’s internal.” The count coldly replied, a little bit like snorted. It snuffed the other man out, and he mumbled:

“Oh… I see. What happened?” 

“I told you it’s not your business.”

“Am I not important enough to you to be involved, then?” Now it was Anze who pouted, making the grimace slowly fade from the other man’s brows. The count muttered:

“I didn’t mean that. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want you to be bothered.” He finally confessed. Anze sighed:

“Johannes, we’ve known each other for not any short time. How could you think that I would ever feel bothered by you?”

“You were away, and having enough problems of your own. It’s just… doesn’t feel right to drag you into more troubles.” He swallowed hard at the sudden scowl Anze gave him. “Are you… are you upset?”

“Yes, I am upset.” Anze firmly nodded. “You’re obviously hurt, and still, you refuse to tell me what hurt you. Now I’m even bothered by the fact that you don’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I…”

“Then let me know what exactly has happened to you!”

The raising of Anze’s voice came as a surprise to both of them, leading him to profusely soften himself, preceded with an inaudible gasp from the other man’s throat. Heaving another sigh, Anze whispered, “Johannes, I’ve known what you and your children are facing.”

“You do?” The count winced again, and his voice was hoarse like gravel.

“That’s why I returned to Romania. I didn’t expect to find you here at all, Johannes, but you don’t need to know how I got the story, either. I’m here for you, and I’m not leaving until you let me know what has happened to both you and Herbert.”

The count’s face twitched at the mention of his son. Cooly enough, he asked:

“If I tell you… would you please go home?”

“And why should I?”

“This whole thing a complicating deed which should not concern a person who has never put a finger in it before. That’s all you need to know for now.”

“But…”

“Deal?”

“…Deal.”

From this moment the count recalled his plight and thought for a second. Reflecting himself at the cracking flames, he brieftly said, “Herbert is taken.”

“I was told you were the last one to see the boy.”

“He was taken from me in front of my eyes.” The count bitterly gritted. “Yet I couldn’t do anything with three broken ribs.”

“Three broken ribs?” Exclaimed the other man. “Johannes, how…”

“Now you’ve known it. Go home.”

Upon the grim face of his partner, Anze paid a quick nod and “Fine.”, he said, but the man didn’t bound to do what he was demanded. Here he proceeded to enjoy his spot on the armchair, waiting for a reaction from the other man once he’d turn back from where he was staring at the fireplace. To his expectation, the count frowned, and so lively was his sudden impatience that he even laid his hand upon his blanket around him and sought to shake himself. “You hear me. Go home.” He repeated.

Anze put himself deeper into the plush chair, conscious of what he was about to talk as he smiled, “But I’m home.”

“What?”

“You hear me.” Winked the man. “This is my home.”

He turned a Cheshire grin to the count, and as if with the decision of revelation, the younger man muttered back by a constrained gesture, “You’re her son.” He declared. His observations, though they had taken so great a space to be set down in, were indeed truth to his eyes as he compared the appearances of the two people. With sombre excitement, he asked, “Didn’t you tell me you were her son when you came in?”

“You noticed.” Chuckled Anze, feeling amused as the count gave him a roll of his eyes. “I hope you and she get along well.”

The count groaned, his voice muffled as he curled himself on the chair and pulled the blanket over his head. “I’ve known there couldn’t be any big possibility of doubt.”

“Oh, you know?”

“You do take after her a lot.” Commented the count, finally showing his face. “But spare the magic.”

Anze laughed as he brushed back his hair, “Please… Tell me to give a speech, to declare war, or to partake in a ten duel commandments, I’ll show you what I got. Those are easy games. But magic? Hell no, I suck at it. They don’t even teach it in our boarding schools. It’s mother’s job, not mine, however hard I try I still don’t understand how people can truly study it.”

The count raised his brows. Anze gulfed.

“Oh, right, it’s your field, too, isn’t it?”

The count just steered away, “Grateful to say, your mother’s an excellent healer.”

“You can call her mother, too, if you like.”

At the older man’s wink the count felt himself want to blush. “She knows about us already?” Asked the count. Anze crouched from his seat and staggered, crawling upon where the other man was resting and besieged him while settling himself on his knees, and as he looked there came, he thought, a hint of excitement glittered for a second in the depth of the count’s eyes. “Not yet. Just a suggestion.” Anze teased, purring softly close to the count’s breathing. “Perhaps she would know if she came in and caught us like this.”

“Anze Afanas, I believe I told you not to woo the patient!”

Right at the threshold there stood the lady in black hobble dress, with a basket full of newly-bought ingedients in her hand. She tilted her chin expectantly at her son as the man leaned backwards with obvious reluctance and rose to his impressive height. He cast a glance at the count, which was too quick and subtle to be easily noticed, before he strode towards the door and whispered into the lady’s ears.

The lady was subjected to no stage of delay, but ushered direct from the door to the nearby corridor as she hanged onto every word that her son spilled. She was aware of her son’s partner thanks to the letters he gave her, but it still came as a delightful surprise as the mentioned man had been at her cottage all these days without either of them even knew it. “When is the wedding?” She couldn’t help herself.

“Mother, now is not the time!”

“Oh, my apology, please don’t mind this fussy old woman.” She gently patted the side of her head. “I’m just so excited. I wish there could be more time for me to talk with him, but then, poor thing is quiet as a mouse and obviously is not in the mood. The work you mentioned earlier… it’s about him, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.” Confessed the man. “Since you’ve quite aware of our problem, I’d appreciate to receive some help from you. Could you consider lending a hand?”

“For my son and my son-in-law-to-be? Of course I’m willing to! Not to mention that I’ll get my first chance to bless my grandchild!”

“Oh, mother, isn’t it a bit too early to address them so?” Anze scratched his head. “I’m not even married!”

“Marriage is a human thing, after all.” She tutted. “It’s fun to attend a wedding, but it’s never too early to see your own’s son’s beloved as a family.”

“Oh… thank you, then.” Anze embarrassedly grinned. “I’m leaving by tomorrow night, and I intend to take him with me. Is he well enough to travel by now?”

“He’s still recovering, but good news is that he is allowed. Just be gentle with him and keep him away from any kind of labor for a few more days.” The lady smiled warmly, as she was taken aback to receive a tight embrace from her son. As he rested his chin on her shoulder, the man mumbled softly:

“Thank you for keeping him safe and sound.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally stopped sulking about being a lone wolf.” She crooned as he released her. “Now, what kind of help would you need?”

“I believe you’ve been informed about his son being abducted.”

“Indeed. You need me to help bring the boy back?”

“No, actually, we can do that. But there’s a problem. It’s involved with magic.” Stammered Anze. The lady tilted her head.

“Magic?”

“The boy was cursed under some kind of spell, I think, which transformed him into a seven-year-old child. Now he only has the mind and the memory of when he was seven. Johannes has been researching to find a cure, though as a magician himself it was all in vain, as I was told.”

“I knew him could be some sort of sorcerer, since he holds a particular knowledge of my herbs around here.” The lady hummed, partly intrigued. “But I can see why he couldn’t succeed, curses of time are not easy to be found outside witches’ libraries.”

“So, do you know how to break the curse?”

“I know the way to undo it. But of course, you have to bring the boy to me first.”

“We’ll find him, soon.” The man heaved a heavy sigh. “Though I doubt that Johannes would not strain himself when having his son taken away again, even if the boy to be brought to you. He has other children in Berlin who are in dire need to be taken care of. I’m worried that he wouldn’t let me take the boy here alone while he’s at a distant place.”

“As it happens then I believe it’s time your partner learnt how to put trust on others.” Hummed the lady. “I know he’s having a hard time, but I also believe you will have your way to convince him. You wrote me he trusted you once. Can I count on you with this time?”

“Of course, mother.” Anze sighed with a slump of his shoulders. “Such a relief to have you lend a hand. Johannes must be on hot bricks these days.”

“Then why don’t you get back inside and assure him of your plan? I bet he’ll be thrilled. Meanwhile, I go make you two some amaranth brew.”

Anze stood awhile when his mother had left him, the woman humming happily as she walked. Then he straightened his coat, as he turned his heel he could hear the lady mumbling to herself, “Johannes, Johannes, what a beautiful name that even be! Johanes, Johannes…”


	17. Back to Berlin

That night Ludwig set his first foot onto his homeland after a long time away in sombre spirits. He knew the city of Berlin like the back of his hand, though the young man was born and had spent his entire childhood in some unknown place that once belonged to Prussia. With bold confidence, he trod across the narrow streets of cobblestone, shielded under the halo of only flickering streetlamps and silhouettes of trees upon the dark buildings. He didn’t notice the few late shops still opened to prepare for the Christmas to come, with great indifference the young man snorted and set forth in the direction of a particular blind alley where his troop used to garrison during the war. It was a hard time for both he and Herbert back then, when they had to create a perfect camouflage among the human world. Fighting was fun, but it was no more when it came to fight for the Nazis, Ludwig thought.

It took him a couple of hours walking non-stop before he reached his place. The neighborhood was left exactly as it was when bombs landed and destroyed everything, saved for a field of devastation and a few brick cottages which were horrendously blown up as well. At least his patience was rewarded, Ludwig shrugged, as he mounted the pile of destruction to enter a familiar small house. The house was in terrible shape, and Ludwig had to haul several metal roofings above the ceiling to create a shelter stable enough for him during the day. “I guess this is going to be our hotel.” The young man chuckled as he let Pip out of his bag. “Make yourself at home.”

After a little cleaning and tidy up, a worn out mattress was set as a temporary bed place. Putting next to it was a tiny wooden nightstand where Ludwig put his bag and tea bottle. He went into the attached room, “Damnit”, he cursed, as it turned out to be a kitchen filled with roaches and bugs. “Pip, I think I got a job for you here.” The man announced as he poped his head out to beckon at the racoon. At least however weak it was, the water worked.

As he finally settled himself down on the mattress, Ludwig heaved a long, contented sigh and stretched his legs. “Sorry that I can’t get a proper hotel for you.” He talked to the racoon washing her face, mostly like mumbling to himself. “But I don’t think any hotel would let a rodent in, and I need somewhere private enough to project my scheme. Do you understand?”

Pip just gave him a quick glance before turning back to her cleaning. The man forced a smile, “Right… What was I thinking? You’re a racoon. Of course you don’t know much.”

It was a night of little ease to Ludwig’s toiling mind, toiling in mere darkness lightened up by only two small lanterns and besieged by questions of consequences to face. He pulled out from his bag a stack of bars and curves made from iron, all of which he had been hiding from wandering eyes and could be put together perfectly, and he called it a “detachable crossbow”. It was a delightful Christmas present the count gave him a couple of years ago, soothing his soul somehow with the family name beautifully carved on it. Ludwig picked up a random stick and held it against the bow string, at the count to three he aimed at the old willow tree outside the window. “Still works impeccably.” He murmured to himself as the stick shot through the scrubby branches of the willow with a swoosh, before it hit the tree trunk and broken into pieces.

He would have to prepare proper arrows when the next night came.

.

.

When Herbert woke up it was a fine cool evening, with the surprisingly orange clouds ran by the window of a moving train welcomed him. The first thing to flick in his mind was that he was thirsty, so thirsty that he thought his throat was cracking and he could drink for days. Wearily, the boy lifted himself up from where he was laying, and lo, conviently next to him was a nightstand with several cups full of water. At once he lurched at them and drank to his fullness, the cool and fresh water clear both his throat and his mind.

“I see that you’re awake.”

A familiar voice greeted him, ushered him to jolt up and look around. “Mr. Angel, is that you?” The boy called out, realizing why he was not at home and that he was the only one in the train private booth.

“Yes, it’s me.” Mr. Angel hissed softly. “Did I scare you?”

“No, you didn’t.” Herbert shook his head. “Where am I? And what time is it? It looks it’ll get dark in no long time.”

“It’s still early in the evening, but I’m afraid you’ve been sleeping for four days.”

“Four days? Oh dear, I’ve never slept so much in my life!” Muttered the boy, “My head stings. What happened to me? I… I remember… I remember there was a stranger!”

“A stranger?”

“Yes! I remember him now! He caught me when I escaped the castle, and he pulled me away. It really hurt, and he… He was a monster!” The boy whined as he recalled the sight of the giant snake with fearful glowing eyes within a blowing blizzard. The other voice chuckled:

“Oh, yes, a monster he is…” He cooed, “an evil monster that wanted to kidnap you. But you are safe now, my boy. I defeated that monster, and I will protect you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You’re unharmed by now, see?”

“You’re right.” Nodded the boy. “And what about my papa? I remember seeing him fighting with the monster, too.”

“Oh, you need not to worry about him, he is totally fine.”

“You saved him, too?”

“Of course.” The voice hissed again. Herbert smiled and heaved a sigh of relief:

“Thank you. That’s nice to know… So he’s home now, isn’t he?”

“He’s propably chilling out somewhere he’s accustomed to.” Mr. Angel sounded pleased. “I’ve made sure of it.”

“Papa is the best man I’ve ever known, there’s nothing can beat him, so I guess I need not to worry anymore, right, Mr. Angel?”

“That’s right.”

“But… where am I?” Asked Herbert, crawling towards the window. “I don’t know this place.”

“We’re on a train, heading to a new land.”

“A new land?” Herbert rounded his eyes. “Is it far from home? You know, I’m not allowed to play outside too far or too late, papa will be very worried. And yet, I’ve already been away for four days! The last time I went out late, I was attacked by wolves!”

“Wolves? That’s terrible.” Commented the voice.

“It was terrible, indeed.” Herbert went on. “I was scared, and it hurt like when the stranger dragged me through the snow.”

“How did you get out of the situation?”

“Papa appeared and he saved me, like a hero of the night! That’s why I told you he’s the best man ever!”

“A very thrilling story, Herbert, but you can keep your mind at ease that this time there won’t be wolves, or any animals that can harm you. I defeated the snake monster to keep you safe, didn’t I? If anything happened to you I would be the first one to appear and save the day!”

“You’re a hero, too, Mr. Angel.” Giggled Herbert. “Fancy.”

“For now, we’re one more step closer to our final prize. You’re still playing my game to get the wish, remember?”

“The game? The game!” Exclaimed Herbert. “Yes! The game! I’ll beat it in no long time and get the grand prize!” His smile got wider. “Then I bet I was right to keep it a secret from my papa. It should be a surprise. Papa will never have to be sad anymore once I’ve finished this adventure. Where are we going to, exactly, Mr. Angel? Do I have to work to pay for the train ticket?”

“We’re going to Berlin. And you don’t have to worry about the ticket, I’ve paid for you.”

“Berlin?” Excitement built up in the boy’s voice. “In Germany?”

“Yes, do you know that place?”

“Mhm! I was born there!” Herbert squeezed his eyes as he beamed. “It was a very nice place!”

“You seem pretty excited.” Commented Mr. Angel. Herbert wiggled his feet as he shifted on the bed:

“Now I **am** very excited! When will we reach there? Do we have to travel for a few more days?”

Mr. Angel hummed as he thought, “I don’t know. Maybe just a few more hours. We’ve been moving non-stop for nearly a week.”

“I just can’t wait to get on more missions!” Herbert chirped, then stopped himself with a soft grumbling sound from his stomach. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s my belly.”

“You’re hungry?”

“I am.” Nodded the boy. “You see, I’ve not eaten in days! Is there any food on the train, or must I wait until we reach the station?”

“I believe I saw some sweet on the trolley cars.”

“Sweet? Then maybe I can get some bread or sandwiches.” Herbert chewed on his lips. “Candies are nice, but they’re for desserts and snacks, eating them just to feel full will give me stomachache.”

“A very good boy, aren’t you, then?”

“Of course I’m a good boy.” Giggled Herbert. “But how can I get the food? I don’t have any money.”

“Oh, you need not to worry about the money.” Mr. Angel purred, “We will just grab some when nobody is watching.”

“No, I can’t!” Herbert profusely protested. “That’s stealing!”

“We’re not stealing.” Assured the voice. “We’re just… borrowing the food first. You know you will get in dire trouble if people catch you, a child, alone on a train, don’t you? And I can’t be seen by other humans. As it happens, I will leave our payment where the staffs could see.”

“Now that sounds like a great plan, got it.” The boy replied in the affirmative, “Fancy. Getting the food without being noticed. Is that my next mission in the game?”

“Yes… Yes, it is.” There was an exaggerated sigh when Mr. Angel found his words. “Can you do it?”

As Herbert found his way to the corridor, he smiled, “You can count one me, I’m sneaky. Like a ninja.”


	18. The plan

“What do you mean by ‘ _we’_ in ‘ _we got you in this_ ’?”

Count von Krolock choked on his medicine, as Anze finished making himself clear about his plan. The older man pulled off his most innocent grin, and awkwardly, he shrugged, “I don’t know what’s still unclear about what I just said.”

“You let the children involve in this muddle, don’t you?” The count narrowed his eyes.

“I believe it’s the right thing to do.” Returned the other man. Without any further wondering, the count asked:

“Where are they?”

Under the count’s scrutinizing gaze, however hard it was to tell, Anze eventually confessed, “Sarah and Alfred know where the snake lives thanks to his business card, and have already departed to a shelter in Berlin with my content. Worry not, that’s a safe and private place they’re heading to, I’m certain of it. The two have been restless…”

“Both Sarah and Alfred?” Exclaimed the count with a hissing intake of the breath, his claws vaguely scratched along the sides of his cup of tea. “Anze, answer me.” He ordered at the reluctance of the other man.

“Yes…” The man replied.

“What were you thinking?” Grunted the count. “They’re babies!”

“Babies or not, I think they should have the right to help you.”

“They should have the right to be under utmost safety!” The count raised his voice, but it was still too hoarse and weak to be counted as threatening. He coughed, putting his cup down as he rose to his feet, “I was a fool to let them all get near that vile of a snake, and Herbert’s incident was the consequence. Sarah and Alfred are both still too young with this un-life to handle a journey on their own!”

“Then it’s time they learnt how to, don’t you think?” Reasoned Anze. “You can’t always keep them under your wings, Johannes. Children need to grow up.”

“But this journey is a step too big for them, Anze.” Returned the count, desperately. “Herbert is already away, and I don’t know what the boy has been facing. I’m…” His voice broke at the mention of his son, yet his face never showed any sign of change in his emotions, “I’m devastated, Anze, this is all my fault. He’s alone and scared somewhere out there, while I… How can I face his mother like this?”

“Johannes…”

“I don’t think I could take it if something happened to…”

“Hush.”

The count froze when the other man grabbed him by his sides and pulled him into a tight embrace. For the briefest of moments Anze wished his partner was shorter, so he could keep his whole frame close to his chest, as he slowly patted the younger man’s back gently. The older man cooed, “Everything is going to be alright, I promise. Alfred is smart and Sarah is strong. You saw how unyielding they were at the Midnight Ball, didn’t you? They’ll show you how grown up they are as fledgings now and nothing can trouble them. And if it happens to be someone’s fault, it is no one’s but that snakes’.”

It was a relief that the younger man was quick to soften and his tension slowly ebbed away from his squared shoulders. He gathered himself, “And what about Ludwig? You haven’t mentioned him.”

“I can’t let you know unless you’ve regained your calm.”

“Then something terrible happened to him, didn’t it?” Mumbled the count, bitterly. “I’m calm. Please tell me… What happened to my Ludwig?”

Anze sighed with a slight twist in his heart, “I’m afraid he’s followed his sire right after your disappearance.”

“Oh, sweet Satan.” Cursed the count at once, as he stepped backward and brushed his hair back in an exhausting gesture. With one hand he rubbed his eyes, “Ludwig, Ludwig, as if this whole mess is not troublesome enough for you.” He muttered to himself, before turning back to Anze, “Thank you… for your honesty, and your will to help. I appreciate it.”

But the other man seemed somehow restless, “Oh, you… you do?” He awkwardly grinned, “So you approve my plan, then? You still look quite upset… and strained. Should have I said that? I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no, I mean it.” Assured the count. “And I apology for keeping this whole thing from you. That was unwise, and childish.”

“Well, I don’t keep it in mind, not at all.” Anze shrugged carefreely. “Good thing is that we both catch up with what’s happening.”

“We’re setting off tomorrow night, aren’t we?” The count went on. “We can’t use up more time, and the fastest way I can think of is to fly. But you Carparthians can not fly, as I remember.” He pondered with a questioning face. Anze barked a laugh:

“Oh, of course I can’t fly, but you’ll know how I’ll manage it when tomorrow comes. Let’s say it’s a surprise.” He ended with a wink. The count chortled:

“Aren’t you always full of surprises? Then let it be your way, I won’t query more about it.”

“Let’s just prepare for our trip.”

“Certainly.” Agreed the count. “Yet I believe I will need more medicine from your mother.”

“Worry no more about the medicine, she’s already preparing them for you. Fussy old woman is pretty pleased that you’re here, anyway.”

“So you usually call me that way behind my back?”

Anze again was scared to the point of jumping out of his skin when his mother appeared from nowhere and caught him red-handed. She cast him a playful glare, “When this whole issue is taken care of, you’re in deep trouble, Anze.”

“Come on, you call yourself that way all the times.” Protested Anze, just to receive a raise of the brows from both his mother and Count von Krolock. Immediately, he whined, “Oh, alright, bad joke. My apology.”

“Good.” The lady hummed.

“But please use your lurking skill on someone other than me, mother! I’m too easy a target to get a heart attack!”

“That’s why it’s fun to lurk on you, my little devil.” Crooned the lady. “Look, dear Johannes holds much a more stable mind than you.”

It appeared that the sudden addressing him as “dear” and his real name came as a surprise to the count, and he cringed at the fond smile the lady gave him, as if she was bestowing a favour. Not letting either of them have the chance to go on, she spoke, “Speaking about Johannes, I advice you should have a hair cut.”

“A hair cut?” Repeated the count.

“Unless you want to stand out among the modern cities then, yes, you need to cut your hair. Modern men usually don’t have their hair this long, though I admit it suits you.”

“There’re tools in my sister’s bedroom, so no need to trouble yourself getting to the barber. Let me help you with this. See my short hair? I cut it myself.” Piped in Anze enthusiatically. The lady raised her hand:

“No, Anze, I’ll do it.” She pinched at her son’s cheek as he pouted like a sulking child. “I am more used to this kind of handy work than you, my little devil. Besides, I would like to get to know more of my… son-in-law-to-be.” Her murmur of amusement made the count want to vanish beneath the ground below, as blood rushed over his face with impossible speed. “Meanwhile, why don’t you go light up the house, and prepare some new clothes for him? He’ll need to catch up with the fashion as well.”

“Now this sounds like a great plan.” Anze widened his grin, as he ushered the count to go with his mother. He beamed brightly, “Enjoy your time, mother is excellent with scissors.”

“Do you think this is a good idea?” For once stammered the count. Anze chuckled:

“Relax. Mother knows what she’s doing. For now, may you excuse me, I’ll go light up the jack-o-lanterns. I love the one on the top shelf the most. It looks just like me!”


	19. Keep a part of you close

Time ran on, Anze had been out since an hour after the count had settled in the dressing room for his grooming, and the man only returned when the hours of the next night had grown large. Brought home with him were some piles of new clothes he got from a familiar tailor, fastidious enough to be moulded into a style and colours that the count would be keen on. As he sat waiting in the parlor, comfortably warmed up by the fire, Anze’s gawked up with light twinkled from his eyes when the count appeared with his new look – hair cut incredibly short, and the outfit of the past decade was replaced by a suit of a wealthy man in the middle 20th century.

“You keep staring as though you’ve never met me before.” Commented the count, voice plain, as the gaze the other man gave him was attentive, partly adoring, and for a few solid seconds, not a whisper. Anze stumbled onto his words:

“You look striking.”

That was all he could blurt out. The count chuckled, a hint of embarrassment painted over his pale cheeks, “How do you know my sizes?”

“You know mine. Let’s say it’s mutual.”

“Legit enough.”

“Do you like this new look?”

“To be honest, it has to take me some time to get used to these... things.” Confessed the count, tugging at his zoot suit with high waisted trousers. At least he still got a giant trenchcoat, he thought. “I prefer the many layers of the past.”

“You’re still sulking about your cape, aren’t you?” Anze grinned, and it made the count immediately snap:

“I do not sulk!”

“But your face says so.” Teased the other man. “I know my old man so well that he’s the old-fashioned type.”

“Is that supposed to be a pun?”

“A very good one indeed.” Giggled Anze. “How’s the short hair?”

“It feels like something is missing.” Sighed the count. “I would appreciate to have something to cover my head from now on.”

“I have some hats.”

“Oh, please, then I’d rather leave my head be. These modern hats look evern worse than the Edwardian top hats.”

“Well, I guess I have the chance to get a full view of your make over, then.” Winked Anze. “It’s a new and delightful experience, I tell you.”

“Flatterer.” The count rolled his eyes.

“I don’t deny that. But you do look gorgeous like this. Mother really has a hand for styling hair, doesn’t she?”

“I have to admit she scared me with her show of scissor-hands at first, but yes, she has the skill.”

“I’m glad you two get along well.”

“I’m deeply grateful that she knew how to keep me companied. A thoughtful and sensible lady she is.”

“Now that’s what I expect to hear from a true gentleman.”

The lady’s voice rang out of a sudden once more, when she swiftly made her way past them and put two suitcases on the table. She paid the count an approving look, then turned to her son, “Everything is ready.”

“And the herbs?” Checked out Anze.

“Of course I’ve included them.” She returned. “You know the remedy, don’t you, Anze?”

“You can count on me, this is not the first time I’ve helped you make medicine.”

“Good to have such a helpful son.” She hummed with a pleasing curl of her lips. “You two may go now. But first, I would like to have a word with Johannes.”

“You had a whole day while I went to the tailor and still have things to talk?” Chuckled Anze with a grin. The lady patted his shoulders:

“Anze.”

“What?”

“Go!”

“Alright, just saying. I’ll wait in the front yard. Goodbye, mother, I’ll see you soon.”

“And don’t forget what you promised me about running errands!”

And with that the man disappeared behind the main door. The lady heaved a sigh, before turning to the other man. Never had he seen her any less bold or dominant, and as she spoke, her voice was gentle, but the strong and confident tone never left her, “Johannes… Are you not uncomfortable with me addressing you that way?”

“No, not at all.” The count whispered, and it encouraged the lady to smile.

“Johannes, I know we’ve just met for a short time.” She started. “But what you’re facing is something I can compassionate. You can see, Anze, and his sister, they’re the only family I have, and I never thought I could live in a world without them. Yet, they’re always on the run with their never-ending work. At first I thought I couldn’t take it, leaving them out there alone, but eventually, I have to make myself get used to it. I’m not saying you ought to set all your thoughts aside, or overcome your feelings right at once, because as a parent, I understand how hard it is to be in your shoes. I’m saying that children, sooner or later, have to grow, and you should put a little trust in them, even just a tiny bit. It will help not only them, but you, too, Johannes.”

“But why are you telling me this?”

“Because now knowing about you, I see you as my family, and I don’t want you to strain yourself too much about the problem at hand. A clouded mind cannot solve it better than a calm one, don’t you think?”

“I understand…” The count smiled through his sigh. “Thank you for your advice. I’ll think of it.”

“Give yourself time, don’t push too much. You’ve already learnt by being patient.”

“I will.” He nodded.

“And I have to thank you as well, for being a part of my son’s life. You have no idea how he sulked when none of his past partners could stand him.”

“Really? He talks much, but he never mentioned me about that part.”

“Now you know, my word on that.” Grinned the lady. “Now go, he must be feeling restless at this moment. Take care of yourself and of each other. By the power of darkness and the grace of the moon, I bless you on this journey and from now on.”

The count gave his humble regards to the healer, before hurried to the front yard. Anze was quick to hear his footsteps, handling the count one of his suitcases, he inquired:

“What were you talking about?”

“Nothing important.” Shrugged the other man.

“Confidential information, huh?” Sneered Anze playfully. “Very well, you can keep your little secret.” He said, as he seized the count’s free hand.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Deep connection.” Winked Anze.

“Disgusting.” Snorted the count, but held still, nonetheless. Anze declared:

“Hold tight, we’re going now.”

“Right here, right now?”

“Yes!”

“But how--?

In a blink of an eye, the two men vanished into thin air, no trace left of their presences but for the faint footprints on the white snow that came to a stop. There came the end of their transition already, and yet none of them was alarmed, not yet, their landing felt natural, like opening a door to enter a room they had been looking for, and only as the last swirl of black smoke disappeared, the count came to his senses.

“We’re here!”

Anze’s voice rang loudly and cheerfully, as the man cherished in the short moment when the count lost his balance and stumbled against him, with their luggage dropped down with a thud. The younger man seemed collected, but his eyes showed that perplexity had not yet left him. He panted:

“Did you just… teleport?”

“Surprise?” Anze bashed his eyelashes in obvious pride, his absurdly white pallor slowly returned to its usual pale colour. He grinned in satisfaction as the count realized he was gripping onto him. “How do you feel about the ride?”

“Now I understand you almost never transport this way.” As he balanced himself the count winced, rubbing his temples. “My head stings. A little nauseous.”

“Hell, are you going to vomit?”

“No, I’m fine. Good. Pretty good. This teleporting thing is just conveniently horrible.”

“Yeah, one way or another, you never got something for free.” Chuckled Anze, turning from side to side as he flexed his muscles. “Now we’re here, let’s get our sick man to bed.”

“I’m not sick.” Protested the count.

“I knew you would say that.” The other man tutted, languidly stroding in the mere darkness of wherever they were to switch on the light. The lamposts outside were drawing a pattern of silver through the window. “But you may appreciate a little rest after teleporting as I do.” He went on. “Trust me. I won’t recommend you commit in anything that requires much effort in at least a few hours, unless you want to slam your face on the ground like some foolish drunkard.”

The light switched on as Anze finished his words, slight buzzing sound of electricity came first, then revealed in front of the men the parlor of a wealthy city house, yet furnished with the interior of which at least two centuries earlier. Both of them blinked several times as they adjusted to the brightness, the count’s eyes twinkled when he observed the room he was standing in. For some reason he could not define, his eye twitched.

“Welcome to our shelter in Berlin!” Announced Anze, spreading his arms wide like a great showman introducing his famous workshop. “Though I guess we’ve arrived sooner than the children.” Added he. “Tell me, and be frank, dear Johannes, how’re you seeing this place so far?”

“This place feels… nice.” Confessed the count, his voice low and husky as the man made his way across the room, letting the tips of his fingers linger above the surface of the furniture. “Strange.” He stopped at a cold dead fireplace, suddenly deep in his thoughts for a few seconds, before reaching out for the nearby logs and threw them into the hearth. He whispered as a fire was lit up and the cold of winter slowly slipped away, “It feels like home…”

“It can be **our** home, if you like.” Returned the other man. “I got the papers for the whole building done way long time ago, so, we can travel here whenever it’s possible. Spending the summer, enjoying the brisk of the city. It could be fun.”

“You sound like you’re dreaming.” The count smiled over his shoulder. It made Anze came to a halt:

“Well, I do confess that I still daydream about many scenarios with you.”

“Such as?” The count turned at last, “Nasty scenarios?” He teased with a cat-like smirk. Anze felt his cheeks hot at once.

“I-I didn’t mean that!” He whimpered at the smugly look the count gave him. “Just thinking it would be nice to have you move here with me. Living a normal, easy life for a short time at least.”

“And how do you define that normal, easy life?”

“Well… I don’t know.” Anze fussed through his hair. “Not very sure, it depends on how you view it also. Probably wake up, take a walk, I adopt a dog and you adopt a cat or some kind of bird, we take care of them as though they’re our children, do something fun, go to the theater, and at the end of the night you would be reading while I boil us tea or maybe cook some snacks. Of course I know you’re not able to eat since you’re an undead of a very original species, it’s just, like, a metaphor for a pastime. Oh… I hope I used that word ‘metaphor” right. Or should I just call it an example?”

The count, for once, pulled a contented smile. “Then, no nasty activities at all?”

“I never said so.” Anze bit his lips. The count had to stiffle his laugh.

“I would love to spend time with you here, truly. This house gives me a warm feeling, after all.”

“Don’t you recognise it?”

“Recognise what?”

“This house.”

“I don’t remember going to this place before.”

The natural spririt of the count wavered, and he scanned the parlor once more, trying to take in the interior to figure out why the other man had said such thing. His eyes landed on an opened music box placed on the cupboard, an old rusty thing which was out of place among the antique yet new furniture. It had been broken the moment the count picked and wound it up, creaking sound cracked horribly.

Despite the rust that tattered it, on the side of the music box there carved a line, which was still readable.

_For Katalin._

The count wished it was otherwise, never in his un-life had he been so conscious of so sharp a wish to erase those words as well as the past that it held, for struggle as he might, there was borne in upon his mind a detestable memory of misery. But for all the effort to convince himself, the words were still there, the man had to inhale a lungfull of air, and his voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken:

“I recognise this music box. It used to be mine, can’t be a chance to be otherwise. Why is it here?”

“Because you’re standing in your old house.”

Anze’s respond came as thunders drumming to the ears, and the count froze perfectly still for an enduringly long minute. “The house I lived when I was alive.” He managed. “It’s been ages ago. How come…”

“I bought it after the day you left.” Revealed Anze.

“You did?” The irises of the count shrank as the man still hadn’t come to himself. The other man went on telling:

“Actually a few days after you left.” He shoved his hands into his pockets nervously.

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s a long story, though.”

“Then please, tell me.”

“Our first encounter, in 1621, do you remember?”

The count gave a look of encouragement, “Go on.”

“The night after it, I… I returned. I was hoping to see you again. But no one answered the door, or even a silhouette peered out the window. Nobody in the neighborhood knew what happened to you. After a day and night waiting, curiosity eventually defeated me.”

“Then you broke into my house?”

“I did.” Nodded the man. “Just to see an empty, dusty building. I followed the stairs up to some bedrooms, and that was when I knew you’d gone for good.”

“And why did you buy the house?”

“I… I hoped to save it for you, and that one day you would return.” With a sigh Anze confessed. “But you didn’t.”

“So why did you keep it anyway?”

“I felt guilty.” Admitted the man. “I’m sorry, that during my time exploring this place I had searched through your belongings. More like the things you decided to left behind. I found your pictures, a few of them, and a diary of Herbert. That was how I learnt about your plight, and how I knew it was you when I went to Transylvania. It was not much, but was enough for me to understand I was the reason you had to bid your departure, and it trifled my conscience not to do anything at all to make up for that grave mistake of mine. So I bought the house, so I could, you know, keep a part of you close to me, like people love to say. It was not easy to claim it from the government, but I finally made it. Hitherto I had been maintaining the building’s conditions, keeping it as much like it was in the first place as possible. But wars came, I couldn’t save it from fire and bombshells, and most of your family paintings were destroyed in the catastrophe, save for the one you used to place in your study. I restored it from time to time, but I couldn’t restore the house to its first state. The architecture and all the interiors were way out of date and couldn’t be found produced anywhere, so this is the closest I’ve got to the 17th century. As you see, I’ve placed the furniture in the exact order that you placed it before you left. I’ve been waiting for one day, when the time is right, I could bring you back to this place again… Johannes, are you alright? Are you crying? Oh, no, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you! You’re having a hard time already yet I’m such an idiot! I shouldn’t have said that, I definitely should not have said that!”

As he profusely apologied Anze rushed to the count, giving the younger man a hug even before he could know it. The count sniffed after a gasp, he assured:

“It’s alright, Anze, I’m not crying. I’m not going to cry, either.”

“But you look so distressed!” The other man whined, clutching at the count’s back even tighter. “I’m so dumb to let you know about this whole story at this moment.”

“No, I’m glad that you let me know.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Then look at me!” Exclaimed the count, as he wriggled out of the embrace to face the other man. His voice was soft, “You had and have done so much for me, even if we had just met for a few minutes that night. There’s no reason I should be upset at you, Anze. It’s just… I was a little overwhelmed. Need some time to comprehend everything, this is an old man, you know.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry my face troubled you.”

“Really? You’re good?”

“Really. See? I’m not crying at all.”

“I… I found the music box tossed in a corner. I supposed it was dropped by accident when you moved out, and would be the best thing to evoke your memory. But it’s a terrible thing instead, isn’t it? You seemed pretty disturbed by seeing her name.”

“I was not.” The count murmured softly, cupping the other man’s face, which made him yearn for the touch. “It’s true that I’m still suffering from those haunting memories of the past, but…” He sighed, “you wasn’t wrong to choose it. The music box, I thought I had lost it forever. You have no idea how happy I am right now to see it.”

“I won’t believe it until you smile.” Pouted Anze. The count barked a laugh for the first time, a grin so wide that he crinkled his eyes:

“How’s this, then, old man?”

“Well… alright, I’m convinced.” The other man returned the grin. “How about a kiss?” He pondered. “To make sure you’re truly not crossed at me?”

“You are demanding.”

Chuckled the count, but leaned in to capture the other man’s lips, nonetheless. At once Anze held his partner by the small of his back and indulged in, allowing time to stop between them, and that the count had his right to let his negative thoughts slip away for a moment, even just a little bit. The kiss was all chaste, slow and lazy, pricking butterflies in both of their stomachs each second the intimacy rose high. When they parted, panting, Anze fluttered his eyelashes:

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I learnt that from you.”


	20. Monster

In the city of Berlin, the wind wasn’t charging so furiously like among the mountains, which was a relief, but to Herbert’s disappointment, the boy knew he could not get to behold the marvelous number of degrees and hues of twilight when evening came. It was by this time about nine in the morning, when he was finally walking down the Germany streets. The boy gasped in awe at every door he passed by, wondering how people could change so fast during the time he spent in Transylvania, all the architectures, the clothes, the people, they were all so different, as if coming from another timeline, and even the carriages now didn’t even need horses. Herbert couldn’t help but dropped his jaws at every by-streets.

“You seem quiet this morning, Mr. Angel.” Commented the boy as he wandered through a park. “I didn’t do anything that upset you, didn’t I?”

The voice of the so called Mr. Angel sighed, a hint of sleepiness lingered in his tone, “No, you didn’t, my child. It’s just… there’re too many people around you.”

“Too many? You don’t like people?”

“Sort of.”

“That’s odd. Angels are supposed to be friendly.” The boy tilted his head, pondering. The voice went on:

“Oh, of course I’m friendly. Very friendly indeed.” He sounded proud. “But we are playing a game of only two, aren’t we? It makes me uncomfortable that too many people are blocking my view to watch over you.”

“But there’s nobody around me at this moment. Only that chonky cat sleeping on the bench. Cats have sneaky eyes, though, you know. Fancy.”

“Very observative, Herbert, but the sunlight is hurting my eyes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I can’t see much during the day. I thought the train would arrive here by late evening, then it would be much better.” Mr. Angel began to sound frustatrated as he explained, but Herbert didn’t query about it. Instead, he kept on asking:

“Why?” The boy chewed on his lips. “You’re an angel. There’s supposed to be even more light in heaven.”

“I’m an angel of the night.” Grunted the voice.

“Oh, I see. That’s new.” was the answer which came as a surprise. “Sounds fancy enough for me, though. But don’t worry, I’m a clever big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“What a relief.”

“Where’re we going? I’ve been strolling around these blocks for nothing, Mr. Angel! I’m tired. I have tiny legs, you know.”

“I thought you always say you’re a big boy.”

“I meant big in age, not physical appearance.”

“Herbert, watch your tone, you’re being cocky to me.”

“I’m not cocky, I’m just saying what’s on my mind!” Whined the little boy. “Can we go to the market? It’s near here, and I can already smell the food! It’s so nice.”

“Oh, food is nice, my child, but isn’t getting the prize better?”

“But I’m hungry.”

“You already ate.”

“But that was half a day ago! A loaf of bread cannot keep me full this long. Please? I’ll just swing by!”

“Well, alright…” Mr. Angel sighed, “We can swing by the market.”

The marketplace was located in a large square, bustling with people at this time of noon, when the sun rose high and business was plenty. A pleasant fog of scent clothed it, drawing Herbert nearer to which was introduced as the “Central Market” of Berlin. Here was this glow of rich, golden buttery brown of newly baked bread and pies that attracted him, and there was this pungent salty smell of grilled saugsages that could make anyone drool. Herbert darted from this stall to another, wondering if that tiny morsel of bacon could be given for free. There was this inituition of him urged him to steal it, it was only a little piece of meat that nobody noticed after all, and Mr. Angel would pay for it afterwards, but it trifled his conscience enough to snatch things that were not his properties, all of which resulted in the boy staring at the stall without his consciousness.

“You like it, don’t you?”

A deep voice was what dragged Herbert back to reality and he shook his head. As the boy turned to his side, there was this imposing, wealthy customer man smiling down at him, but his unusual silver eyes troubled him so much that the boy felt his tongue freeze. He didn’t even hear the man’s offer, “I can buy it for you if you like”, and when the man called out for him again, despite his gnawing hunger, Herbert fled.

Unfortunately for him, as he spun to find his way, Herbert immediately stumbled into other customers, and dropped his beret during his way out, before getting lost between the hustling people. He never knew that that stranger man was confused at the sight of him, and troubling as he might felt, the man decided to keep Herbert’s hat.

Mr. Angel’s voice started when Herbert was finally panting at a corner far from the marketplace, “What happened?” He sounded worry.

“I saw a man. He looks scarry!” The boy trembled as he recalled.

“Oh, so sorry you have to experienced that.” With pity chuckled the voice. “Let’s get you to a safe place far from all these intimidating people.”

“Yes, please.” Mumbled Herbert. “Where are we going?”

“Let’s go to my place. It’s not very far, just follow my lead.” The voice assured. “I know the shortcuts.”

From that minute forward, Herbert, though still a bit reluctant due to his exhaustion and hunger, happily continued his journey, set forth in the direction of an unknown building located in the western subburb of Berlin. He avoided the bustling square as he was told, to duck into alleys after alleys where no one could be seen. It felt like hours, but at least his patience was rewarded. At a dead end he face somewhat like the back of a building which was two storeys high, showed no windows, nothing but a door on the lower floor and discoloured wall on the upper, and bore in every feature, the marks of prolonged and sordid negligence. The iron door was equipped with neither bell or knob, all blistered and disdained.

“We’re here.” Announced Mr. Angel, bringing light twinkled inside Herbert’s eyes. “Come on in, the door is not locked.”

It was a slide door, echoed the distorted sound of creaking as Herbert slid his fingers into the rusty cracks and slid it aside. It welcomed him to only mere darkness, but with his so called friend of an angel’s encouragement, the boy stepped inside.

At the thud of the door being slam closed and locked, which did help draw a gasp from the little boy’s mouth, the flickering orange light was switched on, revealing a house with almost nothing but a bed, a set of table and chairs, and a heater in cast iron, together with some electricity boxes which were all new of a concept to the little boy. His courage began to waver, meekly, Herbert called:

“Mr. Angel… Mr. Angel? Are you there?”

There was something malice in the voice when it returned, “Congratulations. You’ve reached the end of my game.”

“Really?”

“And the secret prize is that… there’s no secret prize. No wish is going to come true, little Herbert.”

It followed with a snarl aloud into a savage laugh, truly with joy but could send shivers down anyone’s spine and force the boy to whimper. “What…? I don’t understand. Mr, Angel, what are you talking about?”

“Tut-tut!” Chuckled the voice. “There’s no Mr. Angel, nor imaginary friend, foolish little child.” As it grumbled the whole building started to shake, columns of dusts began to fall from the ceiling. With a sound like escaping from underground, the voice shouted, “Only Asmodeus! The mightiest sorcerer and creator of them all!”

And with that Herbert really started to cry, loud and desperate, as in front of his eyes appeared a creature of a half man, half snake. It was nothing but the monster he encoutered back then, grinning mischieviously, hissing contentedly as he observed the boy like a scrumptious prey. “Want to play a new game?” Asked Asmodeus, slithering slowly towards the boy.

“No, no game! I don’t even care anymore. Leave me alone!” Shakily, Herbert whimpered.

“Oh, of course you care. You know your father needs that wish.”

“Yes…”

“But you didn’t truly commit in my game, did you? So easy to get distracted.” The man purred, sticking out his split tongue as he continuously hissed. “Naughty little boy. Your pathetic father wouldn’t make it.”

“What… What do you mean?”

“I mean what I mean!” He barked another laugh. “That man must be dead by now!”

“No… that can’t be!” Cried out Herbert. “It can’t! You told me…”

“But unfortunately, it could. Hitler promised not to attack Poland as well, but you know how this world works. We lied.” Chuckled Asmodeus, as he hovered closer to the poor little boy. “Few can survive my venom. And even if your father could, I made sure the sun had taken care of his scanty corpse for me. What a shame you couldn’t see him for the last time.” He pretended to pout, making Herbert just wail louder. The man went on, “Cry as much as you want, even scream if you like, nobody will hear you.”

“Please, let me go…” The boy begged.

“Go where? You have no shelters, no sires here, far from your family. I guess I’m your only acquaintance now.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh, little children are stubborn at first.” Tutted Asmodeus. “But no worry…” He grinned, “From now on, I’ll take care of you.”


	21. Trapped and alone

Herbert woke up from an uneasy sleep. What day or what time it was, no one was truly sure, and none bothered to figure out, either. The boy remembered drifting off because of exhaustion on the floor, but now as he was awake, he found himself tucked in neatly. It felt horrible, though, his body ached, and the mattress was too hard to ever be considered a proper bed. Herbert didn’t need much time to recall what was going on, the boy felt his chest twist with a heavy lump, and he turned his head.

There was no one could be seen but himself in the room he plunged into, a place which was very cool and a little damp, and full of premature twilight, although the sky, high up overhead, was shielded from him completely, which meant the old lamps placed on the wall were the only light he got. As he scanned the room, now Herbert noticed, on the ceiling there lay a square little box, looked like a door to an attic, and that was when he remembered there was still another storey above him. For a few solid minutes no sound escaped that mysterious door, but the moment Herbert tended to get up, the door opened.

A rope ladder was dropped, briskly stepping down a man. Even if without his python tail and there appeared those human legs instead, Herbert knew his face, a middle aged man whose manners and appearance did not calculate to please, scolding upon the world with his glowing amber eyes, a man whose name was insane enough to be Asmodeus. His gaze shifted at Herbert as soon as his feet touched the floor, a gaze sharp like a dagger that made the boy squirm under his counterpane.

“Why are you sulking in that corner?” Commented Asmodeus, as he narrowed his eyes at the trembling boy. Much wrathful as he was in his monster form, the man seemed quite collected and calm when he used his human shape, to Herbert’s relief. The boy muttered:

“Please let me go home.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible.” Chuckled the man, tilting his head with a face as if what he just said was the most natural thing ever been told. “You have to live here from now on.”

“I don’t like this place.” Grimaced Herbert. Asmodeus asked:

“Not to your taste?”

“It’s dirty and boring.” Snorted the boy.

“Oh, you’ll grow accustomed to it soon.” Smiled the man, hissing slightly. “It’ll get more fun in time, I promise.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m your sire now, that’s why.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will, soon.” The man talked in affirmative. “This place has a lot of miracles. You’ll find it better to be here with me.”

“I don’t care.”

“I doubt it. Don’t you remember how excited you were when you heard of a magical wish?”

“You tricked me, though. There’s no wish.”

“It’s part of the game. Sorry I had to hurt your feelings.” Asmodeus pretended to pouted. “But this is no game. Not anymore. Actually, I’m conducting an experiment that you may find interesting.”

“Are you gonna lie again?”

“Oh, this is much different. Trust me, I’m a doctor. Stay with me, and I’ll guarantee you are going to be much bigger, stronger, greater.”

“I don’t need those things!” Herbert began to sniff. “I just want to go home.”

“As I say, this is your home now, whether you like it or not.”

“No… please.”

“It’s no use crying, my child. The table is set.”

“Then leave me alone!” Sobbed the boy, as he sat with his knees close to his chest, hugging himself. Asmodeus shook his head:

“Look how sulky you are when you’re hungry. Spoiled little child. You’ll need some proper training after today.” He tossed a paper bag to Herbert. “Here. Eat it up.”

“What is it?” Herbert spared the object a quick glance.

“Meat pie.”

“I don’t want it.”

“As you wish, but I doubt you’ll let it rot.” The man’s voice vibrated as he laughed. With a spit, Herbert snarled:

“I’d rather starve.”

Asmodeus’ face dropped, “Spoiled brat, you would be in deep trouble had I not so much work to dig in.” His split tongue sticked out again as he hissed. “I guess I’ve had enough of your cockiness for today. May you excuse me now, my break time is over. The meat is not going to go anywhere, anyway.”

With that, Asmodeus turned his heel and disappeared into the upper storey.

Being left alone, Herbert allowed himself to cry, weeping as much as he could when streams of tears fell freely down his reddened cheeks. Never in his life had he been so far from home, and never in his life had he felt so helpless. It was bad enough that his mother went away. It was worse when his father was murdered, if those words he heard yesterday was true. It hardened his heart knowing that this man would never be a parent any good as his father. And Herbert decided, as watery mists baffled his eyes, that he would never yield to this man’s demand, because Asmodeus held nothing but definite presentment of not a friend, but a fiend.

The nicely smell of the meat pie was what woke Herbert up once more from his thinking and reminded him of his grumbling stomach. Eventually, the boy picked the cake of meat from the paper bag, with clear cautiousness he broke it into two. It looked nothing unsual, a normal, delicious meat pie that people sold at markets, but as Herbert peered closer, he could see some tiny petals cascaded throughout the texture of the pie. They were too tiny for the boy to figure out what plant it belonged to, but it was purple, odd enough to rise the alarm and Herbert decided it would be wiser to starve for one more day, much preferable than being poisioned. For now, he decided that, most importantly, he needed to discover what Asmodeus was hiding inside the room above.


	22. Mischievous child

It was after another uncomfortable sleep when Herbert heard footsteps approaching him. It could be no one but Asmodeus, walking from the rope ladder to stand right next to him, but Herbert decided to not open his eyes nor turn his face towards the man. He stayed stiff still, pretending to be asleep, breathing as steadily as possible to make himself convincible. The atmosphere was suffocating as time ran by with nothing happened, but at last his patience was rewarded, and Herbert never felt so relieved when Asmodeus laughed to himself. It followed with fading footsteps, the sound of keys being fumbled through, and at last, the hopeful sound of the main door being opened before it closed shut again.

Herbert slowly woke up. Asmodeus must be too ignorant of a man to look down on a seven-year-old, but Herbert was far cleverer than he looked, and now, the boy was sure that that man definitely had tried to poision him. The boy never ate that cake of meat, he threw it to a mouse which was lurking by a hole on the wall, and a close observer as Herbert was, he saw the mouse went unconscious for a long time after consuming just a tiny morsel. Even if the rodent seemed unharmed afterwards, it showed that Asmodeus did put drugs into his food before giving it to the boy. Herbert shuddered. He would be eager to find out what else the man hid in that attic.

The door to the upper storey was closed, but Herbert thanked his impressive height that helped him pull the rope ladder down like a piece of cake. No time for hesitation, the boy climbed with all his speed. Now, in front of his eyes, appeared a room lit with shades of green and blue. There lay several cabinets before his eyes in the quiet lamplight, containing flashes of strange liquid that Herbert’d rather not query about, a good radiator working at its full force, a drawer or two opened, papers scattered on the business table with sketches of some kind of machine that he couldn’t comprehend, a glass cabinet full of herbs, and chemicals in test-tubes bubbling the eeriest sound. Herbert drew near the table on tiptoe, feeling the chill running down his spine despite the warmth of the heater, and peared closer to the book that lay opened. There he beheld, on the current page, the image of the belladonna plant, or as they named it in the book, “deadly nighshade”, which could be used to poision people or put them into a deep sleep. He shuddered once more, as he recalled the sight of the mouse going slump just right after eating his food, the purple petals Herbert found in the meat pie matched the belladonna flower perfectly. “Evil wizard.” Mumbled the boy to himself, much disdainfully, yet he decided to snatch some of the poisionous plants, just in case.

Asmodeus returned when Herbert went back to his bed just in time, as if nothing ever happened. Upon seeing the boy, the man removed his hood and smiled his phoney smile:

“Ah, I see you’re up now. Just about time to have lunch.”

“Lunch? It’s noon already?” Pretending a sleepy voice, Herbert asked. Asmodeus paid no doubt:

“The sun is high.” He said with a snort. “You’ll need some food in that little stomach while I’m not available.”

“Not available? What does that even mean?”

Asmodeus rolled his eyes, “It means that I’ll be busy during daylight, you naggy child. Now eat up your food.”

As he ordered, the man tossed Herbert another bag made out of paper. Herbert sniffed and winced, “Meat pie again?”

“Again?” Repeated Asmodeus, with a change of voice. “That’s lamb meat, you spoiled little brat!”

“But I had it yesterday!”

“That’s the most expensive food around here, I tell you! Eat!”

Herbert pouted, “I can’t when you’re staring at me!”

“What?”

“I have social anxiety!” Whined the little boy. “I feel uncomfortable when people watch me eating.”

“Annoying child.” Complained Asmodeus. “Fine, I’ll leave you now so you can finish your meal. Satisfied?”

“Uh-huh.” Returned Herbert. “What do I do next?”

“Stay put inside!”

With his firm order Asmodeus disappeared again, didn’t bother to cast the boy a single look. Herbert grunted under his breath, scorning the moody man, as he picked the meat out of the bag and broke it into two. The same texture with purple petals, to Herbert’s expectation, and he quickly crushed the meat before stuffing it into the mouse hole on the wall.

It was another uneasy day for the little boy, battling with both his gnawing starvation and his thoughts of a way to escape this house. He took note of Asmodeus’ features, wondering if the man had the same weaknesses with real, normal snakes. Perhaps he did, Herbert talked to himself, as the man had the habit of hissing like a reptile, and had poor vision like he admitted a few days before. Herbert remembered the overworking radiator on the upper storey, and unless the man had not the stamina for the winter cold, there could be high chance Asmodeus would become lethargic and stay in a state of slumber when the temperature went even lower.

But Herbert could not know when would be the next time Asmodeus left his laboratory. He had heard of scientists locked themselves up in their labs for weeks, and Asmodeus might not be an exception, but by then Herbert would be a spooky sleleton before getting the access to the room. He had to think of a way to turn off the heater in Asmodeus’ lab from a distance.

With his thought, Herbert rose to his feet and explored the first storey where he was put in. The only thing that attracted him was the strange box laid upon the wall, right above the heater, which said “electricity”, and was never sealed. It looked like Asmodeus quite neglected it, just like the other parts of the house. Though Herbert could not understand what electricity meant, he supposed it was some kind of energy, due to the thin pipes connecting it with the heater below, and also because of several switches that said “on” and “off”. There, lay upon the box, as Herbert found, was a pamphlet, stained with dust and unknown detestable goo. It was an instruction pamphlet, and Herbert stood still studying it, feeling glad that he could still read German after a long time. It said the red switch was “the circuit” of the heaters, once turned off, all the heaters in the household would be turned off as well, saved for the other appliances.

That was all the information Herbert needed, and with enough caution, he turned down the switch in red colour, decisively with enough force to break its handle into pieces.

There was almost no changes, but for the stop of the humming heater in his room, and the whole place slowly began to get dryer and colder. Herbert went back to his bed and pulled up his counterpane, ready for a new act whenever if Asmodeus decided to appear to check out what was happening.

Time ran on, Herbert didn’t know how many hours past with him suffering the frost that engulfed the whole house, all he knew was that he was trembling with his teeth clashing to each other, and he believed he had been dozing in and out as well, but the man was still nowhere in sight. Thinking that he might be wrong in switching the electricity off, Herbert dragged his way to the ceiling door. Even if his plan didn’t work, he could still ask Asmodeus to fix the problem for him, leaving him enough time to sneak upstairs and turn the radiator there off. And if he didn’t have enough time and get caught, Herbert assured himself, he could still think of some excuses.

As he steadied himself, Herbert called, as politely as possible, “Sir Asmodeus?”

There was no respond. “Sir Asmodeus?” Repeated the boy, but returned him was only silence. Excitement began to re-build inside him, as the plan might have probably worked. “Sir Asmodeus, can you hear me?” To make sure he called out again, and when no answer replied him, the boy pulled down the ladder made of rope.

The upper room was quiet, but for the usual bubbling sound of chemicals, and something like someone was moaning deeply in their throat. There, far in the corner of the room, lay Asmodeus in his bed, or more like a nest made out of pillows, Herbert observed, in his form of a half man, half snake, curling like a giant ball. His eyes were half closed, but it seemed he didn’t notice anything happened. Herbert peered closer to the man, the glittering keys around his waist caught the boy’s eyes immediately. Herbert drew near on tiptoe, as gently as he could the boy unbound the ring of keys. The moment he succeeded, Asmodeus bolted up in his startling.

Herbert hurried to a cabinet nearby, the keys held tight inside his fist. Asmodeus blinked wearily, slithering out of his bed in a way which was much more sluggish than usual due to the cold in his room, and unfortunately, made his way to the cabinet where Herbert was hiding.


	23. Run

Herbert was preparing for a close attack with the pointy keys as his only weapons, when he heard Asmodeus let out a large stretching yawn. A small sigh of relief was heaved, when Asmodeus didn’t see him hiding there, and the cabinet he used as a shield, by good fortune, was where the man used to make his coffee. Herbert could hear the clanking sound of spoon stiring against the cup, and the smell of hot brewed coffee soon wandered through the air. But the boy knew he could not be safe for long, once Asmodeus had finished his drink, the man would come downstairs, and would realize Herbert had attempted to escape.

Waiting no more, Herbert picked up a random button that lay near him and tossed it to the opposite side of the room. At once Asmodeus tended to it, at the sound of Herbert mimicking the mice’s squeak he paid no doubt at all and slithered to the chemical shelves. Herbert grabbed the belladona plants from his pockets and crushed them in his palms, then sneakily enough he popped up from behind the stall to mix them with the man’s coffee.

Asmodeus grunted as he made his way back to the cabinet, cursing bad words about mice trying to nibble on his documents. He drained his coffee without a second thought, and after one, two, three seconds, he realized it was too late, and the man stumbled to and fro before he collasped on the floor. Herbert sprang up from his hidding place, using the greatest of his last strength he dashed to the door, only to be grabbed by his ankles when he almost reached it.

“You little devil, you drugged me!” Hissed Asmodeus in his mellow, baring his fangs in his frustration and sharp claws clinged to the boy’s flesh, forcing him to fell flat on the floor. “Thinking you can run from me like your brother Ludwig?” The man snarled, “Oh, I underestimated you, didn’t I? You got the brain and guts much better than him, but eventually you’ll end up like him in this place!”

With a final shout he pulled Herbert closer, hissing and groaning like a maddening beast about to eat alive its prey. Herbert screamed at the sight of the man’s monstrosity, as his feet was dragged close enough the boy summoned all his power and courage to kick hard onto Asmodeus’ face. The man groaned at first but didn’t release, then a stool slammed down his head made him truly collapse. Herbert at once hurried to his feet and stumbled downstairs, the furious hissing of Asmodeus trailed right behind him. When he ran for the main door, Asmodeus had already staggered near and let himself fall freely down the first storey, the tip of his tail still dangling uopn the rope. Herbert felt he might go insane, his hand still fumbled through the keys to find out which was the right one, while the monster hybrid, however struggling he was, still making his way towards him and the man was raging!

The lock finally opened with a hopeful clack, and Herbert slid himself outside just in time to slam the door to Asmodeus’ face. No time to hold the entrance, the boy used up all his speed and ran for his life far from the devilish house, dashing through alleys and by-streets under the cover of the night. He didn’t know where to go, but he just kept running, as long as he could get far from Asmodeus. He didn’t know how long he had been on the move, only when the streets were all quiet and there was nothing to be seen but lamps, the boy gave up.

A firm hand on his back made Herbert jumped and he turned around, just to receive a cold palm over his mouth and a sign indicating him to keep silent. Under the prematured half-light, Herbert recognized the face he used to be frightened of, a sharp face filled with scars and one eye went milky. He stopped whimpering at once, and that was when he was released with an audible sigh of relief.

“Ludwig?” Called out Herbert, voice broken and meek like a mewl of a wounded kitten. The man couldn’t believe his eyes:

“Herbert, I found you!” He exclaimed, and before he knew it, Herbert lurched at him to give a hug so tight that he never thought he would receive, forcing him to sit onto his haunches. The boy began to sob into his brother’s coat, with the man brushing his hair, gently soothing him. Luwig cooed, “Hush now, we’re on the streets. You don’t want anyone to see us like this, do you?”

“I was so scared…” was the replied, muffled between hiccups. Chuckled Ludwig:

“I know, I know. But I got you, alright? Let’s get you somewhere safe and warm.”

“Yes, please…”

Ludwig set out homeward with a heavy heart, though he never showed, with Herbert being piggy backed behind him. The boy had fallen asleep during the way, between them share an air of complete silence. Pip was cherish as she welcomed them, but the animal was smart enough to understand the man’s order to keep quiet. Now with Herbert staying still, Ludwig quickly went to bandage that bleeding cut around the boy’s ankle, and wet a clean cloth to gently wipe the mud off the boy’s face, his weapons and the on-going plan of spying gone forgotten.

The morning after was one of those scarce day when Ludwig didn’t sleep. When the dawn had just broken into a hue of indigo and blue and Herbert was still sleeping soundly with Pip snoring beside him, Ludwig raised up again from his chair into a sober gratitude by the many he had come so far, though things ended up a little off the track he had planned, grabbed his cloak, and hurried out of the house. He scattered a mixture of crystal white salt and minced garlic around the neighborhood, grimaced at the awfully strong smell, before setting forward to the local market. It located in a busy quarter of southwest Berlin, drove a thriving trade on the weekdays with workers briskly unloading their cargos from trucks since the early twilight. The inhabitants were all doing well, emulously hoping to do better still, and laying out the surplus of their grains in coquetry, so that the shop fronts stood along that thoroughfare with an air of invitation, like rows of smiling saleswomen. As the sun rose higher it was painted with a more tranquil charm, bloomed with florists and brought to life with bakeries, instantly caught the eyes and pleased every senses of the passengers.

Ludwig paused at the butcher’s, a wooden stall shielded from the detestable sun to keep the meat as fresh as possible, as he waited for the old woman to finished displaying those pork chops and beef tenders. The man purchased some ground beef, then walked on again, this time strolling down to the groceries store, to buy some vegetables, some basic spices and roasted chestnuts, garlics in his disgust, and finally, more salt. Ludwig blinked when the shopkeeper shot him an apologetic glance:

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we’ve run out of the crystal salt you need.”

“Is that so?” Mumbled Ludwig. “When will it be available, then?”

“I’m afraid it must be until tomorrow morning for the cargos to reach us. It’s troubling to go around with this much snow this season, I hope you understand. If you’re in an urgency, then may I suggest getting to the apothecary. There might be high chance they’re selling it.”

“The apothecary’s? Is that the small house at the end of the street of which door never opens?

“Yes. Just walk straight in. They just don’t want people staring at them while working.”

“I see. Thank you.”

When Ludwig reached the apothecary’s, the day had been lit up with bright light, and however cool it was, the man could still feeling his skin crawl with heat under the thick cloak. He hissed to himself once he had closed the shop’s door.

“Good morning.” Said the apothecary at the ringing of the doorbell, and they meant it. The sun was drawing warm patterns through the colourful windows, and the air was peaceful. It would be snowing prettily again in no long time. But Ludwig looked at them from under arch bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his tattered hood.

“I believe it’s supposed to be a good morning whether I want it or not.” He bitterly joked, his boots creating the clopping sound as he walked over the wooden floor. The apothecary gawked up from their table:

“Bad day already?”

“Everyday is bad day.” Ludwig sighed. “Do you have any crystal salt?”

“And what for? Are you a chemist? Or a student conducting experiments?”

“Why should I tell you?” Snarled Ludwig under his breath, and the other person pulled off gaily:

“I just wanted to give some small talk and be friendly. I’m sorry if I offended you. Not very clever in communicating.”

“Netheir am I.” Chuckled the other man. “Anyway, I need it to mix some snake repellent.”

“Snakes during the winter?”

“Trust me, I’m just as stunned as you. Called the animal service, but I have to brace myself while waiting for them to come.”

“I see. And what are you going to mix with the salt, if I may be curious?”

“Minced garlics.”

“Minced garlics?” The apothecary blinked in surprise.

“No?” Shrugged Ludwig. “I saw elderly people sprinkle it throughout their gardens back then when I was a kid, to keep reptiles far away. It worked.”

“Guess there’s more to learn everyday for this young apprentice.” Smiled the apothecary. “How much crystal salt do you need then?”

“Just fill this thing.” Said Ludwig, as he handed out an empty jar. “Need not much. I don’t have a garden after all.”

“Alright. Here you go.”

The empty glassy jar was soon filled with salty white crystals, Ludwig paid and put it neatly inside his bag, then peered closer to the table where the apothecary was working. “What is that?” He asked.

“Oh, this?” Replied the other person, as they piled up a pinch of orange powder before carefully putting it into a box. “Realgar powder. New arrival this morning.”

“Realgar?” Ludwig’s tone was questioning. The apothecary returned:

“Have you heard of arsenic?”

“I think so. This is it?”

“Not the substance itself, but a compound of it.” Nodded the other person.

“What is it for?”

“Fireworks in the past, before the availability of aluminium. Some kind of torpedoes.”

“Fireworks and torpedoes? So it functions like gunpowder?”

“Not really. It was used to created the white sparks in fireworks, though now people preferred other powdered metals because they are less dangerous. But centuries ago realgar was used in fire arrows, so, basically you’re not wrong.”

“Interesting.” Hummed Ludwig.

“Indeed?” Agreed the apothecary. “But I think this one must be the real interesting thing to you. It can be a dramatic alternative for your snake repellent.”

“Really?”

“Snakes hate its smell, so it can be used as a solution in emergent situations. Just make sure to wear protection when you sprinkle it. Can harm if contacts the human’s skin, or if you inhale too much of it. Quite a poisionous material.”

“How do I buy this powder, then?”

“Buy?” The apothecary gawked up, blinking in surprise.

“What so strange of it to ask for a purchase?” Replied Ludwig. The apothecary averted their eyes.

“My friend, this box is for my study, it’s not for sale. Besides, it’s one of the restricted materials because of its toxicity. I can’t afford another batch in a short time.”

“I’ll pay. Just name the price.” Pled Ludwig, strangely sweetly that it made the apprentice cringe. They shook their head:

“I’m afraid I can’t. I can’t risk my whole career with the law. You need a license.”

“How about I pay you higher than the market price?” Suggested Ludwig. The apothecary seemed offended as they rose their voice:

“Excuse me? That sounds like a bribe!”

“Come on, do I look like one of the dirty men trying to flatter myself into dignitary?”

“Your extra money wouldn’t worth my time in the jail if I got caught.” Exclaimed the other person as they hurried to hide their box in a cabinet. Ludwig groaned with an extravagant slump of his shoulders:

“Fine, a license will do, right?”

“Exactly. Once you have a license, I’ll be able to sell you some.”


	24. Search for Asmodeus

That morning Ludwig came home to his shelter in the abandonned neighborhood with moodiness, yet he hurried to the kitchen right after he entered the house. There was no time to be sulky, and there was a child to take care of. Herbert was still sleeping in his exhaustion, but Pip was awake and she followed the man to make breakfast. Honestly, Ludwig was not a good cook, but his time in the army had taught him some basic skills, even though he didn’t need to eat. Here, the young man put a pot full of water onto the stove, turned it on with a match, then waited for the waiter to boil. He chopped the potatoes and carrots in front of Pip’s twinkling eyes, sliced the cabbages, and in the meantime kept the beef away from the animal’s sneaky paws. The beef and spices were first to go into the bubbling water, and when they were soft enough, followed the veggies.

It took him no more than half an hour to finish a simple soup. When breakfast was put on the nighstand, its smell woke Herbert up, the boy rubbed his eyes with a pitifully loud grumbling of his stomach.

“Good morning…” Mumbled Herbert, as he blinked several times before his eyes adjusted to the dim light, followed with a large yawn. Ludwig chuckled:

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“I smell something nice.” Realized Herbert, as the boy grew fully awake.

“Yes, it’s called your breakfast.” Replied Ludwig, flatly, and he let himself go slump onto the only creaking chair. He pointed to the bowl of soup. “Serve yourself.”

Herbert sniffed at the soup and asked, “Are you sure there’s no drugs in this?”

“Drugs?” was an evident question. “Like what?”

“I’m not sure…” Herbert put his spoon into the bowl and stirred. “Sleeping drug, perhaps.”

Ludwig’s face fell, “Why should I put such things into the soup?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugged Herbert. “Just in case?”

“Asmodeus put that thing into your food, didn’t he?”

“He tried to.” Returned Herbert. The man snarled under his breath and sank deeper into his chair:

“Fucking bastard.”

“So, no drugs?” Repeated Herbert. Ludwig nodded:

“No drugs.”

“Fancy.” Giggled Herbert. “Thank you for the meal!”

It was not the best meal Herbert had ever had, but he was grateful, and the boy filled his stomach until he couldn’t take anymore bite. Ludwig was leaning back as he sat on his chair, his limbs stretched and he looked relax with his eyes half closed, or you could say he was dozing out. Herbert started, swalloing a full gulf of water:

“Ludwig, are you sleeping?”

The man lazily opened his eyes, “No. Just resting a little bit. Why?”

“Nothing.” Smiled back the boy. “Is this your house?” Innocently, he asked.

“Well…” Stammered Ludwig. “Used to.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah. Are you not comfortable?”

“I didn’t mean that.” Pouted Herbert. “But this place doesn’t look very fancy.”

“I’m afraid this is by far the most luxurious we can get. I have work to do, so I can’t live in a hotel where people may be stalking. They won’t even let Pip in.”

“Oh…” Whispered the boy. “At least it’s better than that man’s house. You know, he hurt me, and didn’t let me eat in days.”

“I’m sorry you had to experience that, kiddo. Asmodeus is not a very pleasant man to say the least.”

“Do you know him? When I ran away, I heard him say you used to live there, too.”

“Well… yes, used to. For some time.” Admitted Ludwig, slouching in his seat. Herbert tilted his head:

“Why didn’t you run away?”

“It’s not something you need to know. It’s… complicated.” Sighed Ludwig.

“Adult’s stuffs?”

“Yeah. That sort of thing.”

“Alright. I won’t ask about it anymore. Adult’s stuffs are boring.”

For once, the man smiled a contented smile, “You’re not so annoying of a boy, aren’t you?”

“Who says I’m annoying?” Herbert sounded offended. The man only waved off:

“Forget it.”

.

.

“To be honest, I’m not feeling very secured. Are you sure about this?”

The count asked as he fastened his seatbelt, or what people called it? He was not sure, there was too much for an old man like him to remember, and he shifted nervously in his seat. Beside him, Anze laughed:

“Of course I am! There’s no better way to roam the city!”

“I’d rather fly.” Muttered the count under his breath. The other man nudged him with his elbow:

“Come on, it’s not that bad, I know how to handle this iron horse. Besides, you can sightsee. Keep an eye on what’s happening, no?”

The count squirmed in front of Anze’s encouragement. “I changed my mind. You drive. I can sightsee from the sky.”

“No, you can not!” was a quick reply, and Anze seized tight the other man’s wrist. “Addresses are not printed on rooftops, you know.” He smiled brightly.

There was a thing that Anze Afanas was usually good at, persuading as it was called. The man had the charm to convince people, not much needed to be said, no unearthly power needed to be involved, only the usual delightful, affable look of his expression, an exquisite talent, like Count von Krolock used to say quaintly, and a rigid man like the count could even be moved, more or less.

“Fine…” Grunted the count, after a second battling with his own thoughts and those attentive, pleading puppy eyes of his partner. “Let us drive, then.”

Anze’s grin grew wider as he murmured, bringing the count’s wrist to his lips for a quick kiss, “Relax. This is just a car.”

“I have to say I’m too accustomed to horse led carriages.”

“Oh, trust me, this is way much better than horse sleighs.”

As he assured, Anze started his engine, and the black Bentley set off through the streets of eastern Berlin. One could confirm about sitting in the car, thank goodness human had ever invented it, it was more at ease than enduring the clattering of the old school carriages, and even faster the vehicle could be. But the further the Bentley headed down the boulevards, the deeper the count sank into his seat, on his face a solid picture of nervosity. 

Anze couldn’t help but gave the other man a concerning look. “Hell, Johannes, are you travel-sick?”

“No.” Breathed out the count, grasping at the arm rests to his steadiness. “You’re just going too fast for me.” He admitted, seeing the scenes outside graze past by like a reel of film. In fact, the man had not accessed much to the movies, either, but he found the comparison close enough.

“Fast?” Laughed out Anze. “Johannes, this is the average speed!”

“Then slow down to below average!” Whined the count, trying his best not to tremble in front of those scrutinizing eyes, for he knew if he did, he would be made fun of in at least a couple of days to come. “I’m too old for this!”

“Fine, as you wish.”

Anze happily obliged, and henceforth, their car lazily strolling near the pavements as the two men observed the streets. “Damn, now I’m driving like that old lady living down the cul-de-sac.” Complained the older man, obviously with a joking purpose that anyone could notice.

“Much better.”

The count crooned, before the usual gloom returned to veil his face, as the man leaned against the window and peered his eyes close to every corner he could get. It grew suffocatingly quiet inside the car through time, a clear contrast to the bustling square around the square of Bradenburg Gate. Until one point Anze thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, the man decided to break the ice:

“So, anything caught your eyes yet?”

“Nothing.” Sighed the count, his voice turned husky and broken. “Have we reached the place?”

“I don’t know, we’ve reached the west side of the city, but I doubt we’re meeting the address in any short time.” Muttered Anze, sprawling before him the map and the address that he took from Alfred. “It looks like that house never exists.”

“Let’s just keep on looking, please.”

The Bentley carried on its patrol for a few more hours. No one knew where the location they were looking for was, and the two men started to believe it was a fake address, which was understandable, for though Asmodeus might be an ignorant brat, he was not dumb. The night grew late into a pitch black colour, their way lay through a part of town where there was literally nothing to be seen but lamps and the flickering sign of a pub that said “Closed”. Street after street and all the folks asleep, till at last Anze got into that state of mind when he began to long for the sight of a policeman. “I see an officer.” He finally said, quite excitedly.

“And what of him?” Asked the count.

“We can ask him about the address. Maybe he could be some kind of informative.”

The car pulled over and rolled down the window when Count von Krolock greeted the standing policeman. “Good evening, officer.”

“Good evening, my two fellowmen.” Returned the police, much more eagerly than they expected. “Though I believe it’s night already. What on earth makes you wander out this late? Christmas is not at the door.”

“There’s a curfew?”

“No, I’m just asking.”

“We’re afraid we’re a bit lost.” Chuckled the count. “Can’t find the address in this paper. Is there a chance you know where it is?”

The policeman narrowed his eyes at the paper, “This is an old address. Must be.”

“An old address?”

“The road where it located has been blocked since the war ended. Nobody lives there anymore.”

“Blocked since the end of the war? For what, under construction?”

“As I was told, yes.”

“It’s been eight years since then.” Piped in Anze, questioning. The young officer scratched his head.

“I wish I could tell you more, but I’m a new face, even. There’re certain things I don’t know yet.”

“I see.” Nodded the count. “Then this address is no more?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Where is that road, anyway?”

“Turn left at those crossroads, and then left again after two intersections. It’s a small, abandoned neighborhood. You can’t miss it.”

“Understood. Many thanks for you help, officer.” 

“But why do you need to get to an abandoned…”

“You never met us.”

The count declared with a snap of his finger, and the policeman’s eyes went blank for a few seconds. When he came back to his senses, nothing had ever happened to him, and the car drove on as if they had never encountered him, either. Anze couldn’t help himself a comment:

“That’s pretty harsh of you, Johannes. You could have just come up with an excuse.”

“That would lengthen the conversation even more if he didn’t believe us.”

Anze pulled his coat tighter and whispered under his breath, “Please don’t do that thing to me.”

As the car drew up before the address indicated, appeared in front of them was a dingy street, on which located a low eating house, a pub which was built like a tavern, a shop for retail with stacks of desks and chairs huddled in the doorways, and several gloomy houses that led to a dead end. The government seemed to neglect the whole street in the middle of construction, including the extinguished lamps, letting snow fill the cracks of the roads instead of cement and tar.

“This is it?”

Anze frowned as he stood with the count in front of the house at the end of the street. It didn’t look like a house at all, two storeys, bearing no windows, only one door which was hard to be seen. There were no keys to be whipped out, and before Anze could think of anything to say, the count had punched the door and forced it into pieces. “This is madness.” Muttered the count, much frustrating, as it showed nothing more than another wall built of bricks.

“It’s like that snake has sealed the whole place.” Commented Anze.

“Then I’ll bring this whole place down!”

With a shout the count kicked hard to the wall, breaking it into crumbles. There was only darkness and dust inside, as the men began to explore it. In the whole extent of the house, which but for the huddle of bricks remained otherwise empty, no sign of life could even be found, but for the squeaking of the mice running along the rusty pipes. The count strode across the fallow, his ears perked from side to side.

“Any discovers?”

Asked the count, when he followed the rope ladder to where Anze was searching. There was nothing there either, making space for their voices to echo, saved for a table broken into halves lay in the middle of the room. Anze shook his head, “No good news, either. You?”

“Nothing downstairs.” Sighed the count. “But I can sense him.”

“Sense who?”

“Herbert. It’s faint, but I know he was here. If only I knew where next to find him.”

“Do you think you can keep on searching this neighborhood?” Worriedly, Anze asked. “You should rest.”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll keep on searching.”


	25. The hunt goes on

The next morning came with no patience rewarded, the two men arrived home when the sun began to rise, and here, for only a moment – if they were both lucky, a fog wouldn’t be as dismal as the swirling wreaths inside the count’s mind, and the haggard shaft of winter daylight would only adorn the mournful look that he had. His thoughts were of the gloomiest dye, and when he glanced at his companion before locking himself up, the other man was conscious of the touch of that terror of losing a part of one’s life, which could assail the coldest of heart.

Anze drove on again when it was only a little past seven in the morning, and the second snow fall of the season. As his car crawled from street to street, the man beheld the marvelous pall of white flakes descending from heaven, and there, some shops had begun to hang their Christmas wreaths. He pulled over in front of his office, briskly walked through the greeting employees and came straight to his secretary. “Nathalie.” He said.

“Sir!” Greeted back the young lady, already busy for another hard-working day. “I did it, I succeeded in postponing the meeting til next month!” Immediately, she added.

“Excellent as always.” Praised Anze, before he quickly waved off. “But save it for later, my deed of an urgency is not done. As long as I remember, there’s a client of our company whose name is Asmodeus, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, he’s one of the physicists who are interested in our electrical devices, though he’s the one who bought them in the largest amount.”

“Is he associated with any firms or people?”

“I’m afraid not…” Shook the secretary, scanning her documents. “He seems to work on his own. Here in this license he claimed that he was working on a one-man project.”

“Let me see it.” Ordered Anze, and the young lady handed him her papers. The man frowned, “There’s a double loop in the ‘o’ of his signature.”

“And what of that, sir?”

“He’s a liar.”

“Oh, sir, didn’t you read too much of detective novels?” With her usual charm the secretary joked. Anze returned with a laugh to his content:

“Well let’s say I did!”

“But what of him that makes you accuse him so?” Querried the secretary. Chuckled Anze:

“Read the papers. In a few days he’ll be there.”

He ended with a playfull wink. The secretary had to but chortle. “Did he commit in anything illegal?”

“Worry not about that, if he did, you’d be the first I informed.”

“That’s a relief.”

“I believe there’s a chance we have his address?” The man went on. The young lady nodded:

“Of course, sir, we have it here in our shipment receipts.”

“Nathalie?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Your raise. 25% added from this month.”

There was a muffled squeal when Anze left his office. The man continued his investigation, black Bentley drove on until twelve o’clock struck on the bells of the Saint Nikolai Church that was conveniently near to where Anze was parking to get his car filled, and that was when he knew he had gone very close to Asmodeus’ other house in the Old Town of Spandau.

The district looked pleasant, bathed in the scarce sunlight of winter, brick houses painted in light elegant colours, the house where the address indicated was more convincing as an accomodation than the previous one. An ivory-faced and dirty blonde-haired woman opened the door. She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy, but her manners were excellent. She invited Anze in at once without any query about his purpose, a flash of odious joy appeared upon her face as she observed him like a prey. The man started:

“You say he’s not here?”

“Yes.” She hissed. “His habits are very irregular, and he’s often absent. For instance, it was nearly two months since I’ve seen him. But I understand, he has a lot of work to do.”

“What kind of work?” Anze lowered his voice.

“Oh, you know. This kind, that kind, he has several jobs. Some say he’s a chemist. Some say he’s a physicist. Some say he’s a doctor.” She swung her hips as she circled him. “But do you know what I say of him? He’s a surgeon.” She ended with a playful tick of her tongue.

“I didn’t know that.” Return the man, mocking in his tone. The woman languidly showed herself from where she was sitting on the living room cabinet, starting with her thighs, dense with scars which formed into red lines curving around the pale flesh.

“I’m one of his masterpiece.” She said, bashing her lashes, seemed to be very proud.

“Did he abuse you?”

“Abuse?” Blinked the woman in surprise. Anze pointed:

“There’re scars all over your arms and legs.”

“Don’t be dramatic, all these are not scars. They’re sewing seams.”

“He sewed you? Like a drag doll?” Stunned, Anze raised his brows. The woman purred:

“It’s a long story, and I don’t remember much. The only thing I knew when I opened my eyes was that he created me, if you know what I mean.” She ended with a wink. “And since then I’ve had him to devote my life to.”

“So you’re one of his fledgings?”

“And also his butler.”

“A little bird told me his deliveries were all shipped to this address. I’m wondering where they are. As a butler, you should know about that, shouldn’t you?”

“But I’m afraid those shipments are not my business. Asmodeus always had trucks transported them before sunrise.”

“I see… Does he write you while he’s away, or he just disappears without a word and then appears again?”

“He does write, but never says much. Asmodeus is a man of secrets.” As she said, the woman placed a finger against her lips. Anze went on:

“Did he say where he is at the moment?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Chuckled the woman. “Why, you need to see him that bad? And you’ve been asking much, dearie, are you a detective?”

“Yes for the first part, and no for the second.” The man forced a smile. “We have some issues need discussing.”

“Oh, pity.” Pouted the woman, this time lurching at her guest, bold enough to gently tug the collar of his coat, smoothing the fine fabric. “But I guess I’m the only one here. You can discuss with me, though, handsome face. I’m a good hostest.”

“Then I’ll say you’re not my type.” Smirked Anze, cooly enough, as he strode right across the woman and headed to the door. “And I’m afraid there’s nothing more for me to learn here. Goodbye.”

“Why so soon?”

“I’m a busy man, lady.” His smirk became a grin, the man turned to face her one last time before getting back into his car, “And friendly advice – You should seek a better sire. It’s not worth sticking around with a man like Asmodeus.”

With that he set off homeward, leaving the butler behind with a disapponting chuckle from her lips. Anze didn’t care if she reported anything to Asmodeus, it wouldn’t harm them in any cases anyway, he thought, and continued his drive long the Havel River. He drove under the dreary shade of sky along the frosty bank, the closer he got to the north, the fewer people around him there were. Until one point, by the time of two o’clock in the evening, the only thing caught his eyes was the sight of a dog.

Anze stopped his car. There was this collie dog with a coat of blue merle and white, avarage-sized, whining desperately between a denuded bush, half-covered in snow.

“Hello, little one.” Greeted Anze, as he knelt by the collie and gently untangled it from the ropes it got itself into. The man beamed as there was, fortunately, no wound to be found, “Aren’t you a pretty girl!”

The dog, as if under proper training before, waved her tail and stood up, though with difficulty due to the sore the ropes caused her, shaking all the snow off her body and revealing a thick fur coat which was partly soaked and stained. She barked softly and sniffed when Anze pampered her, brushing her hair and scratching her head. She let her tongue out. “Do you have a name?” Asked the man.

The collie only barked one more time before lurching at Anze and she pressed her head against him, demanding for a snuggle. There was no name tag or collar to be found. Anze chuckled, “Don’t you have a home?”

Another bark was what he received. In her excitement, the dog stood up on her hind legs and leaned against him, and she licked him as an alternative of a grateful kiss. The man had to laugh out loud, “Hey, that tickles! Down, girl, down.” He ordered between his laughs.

The dog was quick to oblige, sitting docilely while tilting her head, gazing at her savior. Anze smiled, “You’re very smart, aren’t you?”

A bark.

“Has somebody trained you before?”

Another bark.

“Do you want to come along?”

Asking so, Anze rose to his feet and headed back to his car. The dog followed right after, never stopped waving her tail, and she hopped onto the passenger seat when Anze’d opened the door. “Good girl.” Praised Anze, as the dog sat still for him to fasten her seatbelt. “From now on,” add he, “your name is Lilith.”

The collie tilted her head, letting out a tiny squeal.

“Lilith.” Repeated the man, pointing to the dog. “Your name is Litlith. Understood? Lilith?”

At once the dog let out a long happy howl.

“That’s right!”

The drive home with a new pet that evening was somewhat a relief to Anze. They arrived their shelter when the sun hadn’t set yet, but welcomed them, unexpectedly, was the dreadful sight of the count, only in a plain shirt and trousers, hovering over the kitchen table, an empty bottle in front of him showed that he had drained the medicine Anze’d left before he departed, in case the man got home late. At the sound of them the count wearily lifted his head, he led up to the subject which so disagreeably had been preoccupying his mind.

“I suppose, Anze,” said he, “you has been out since early morning to keep on searching?”

“I found another dwelling of him in the Old Town of Spandau.” Returned Anze, and the count seemed to be lit up a little bit. “He has a Carpathian as his butler there. I was surprised, though… But she didn’t help much. There have to be another den somewhere.”

“So, he was not at home?”

“No.” Anze shook his head. “The butler said that his habits were irregular and he was seldom home.”

“Typical Asmodeus.” Snorted the count.

“How do you feel today?” Asked Anze, concerningly, “I mean about your wound. That was the last doze of the medicine.”

“I feel well.” Assured the count. “Will be able to travel on my own tonight.”

“You’re going tonight?”

“Why not? I have to.” The count was determined. Anze sighed:

“Oh… Alright. Just… please take care.”

“I will.” Nodded the count. “I’m flying to northern Berlin after sunset.” Added he. “That vile can’t be far, though, unless reptiles can do much during winter. There’re fewer people in the north, and I think a snake like Asmodeus would find places like that ideal enough to hide.”

“Good point. Then I’ll move on to the south.” Agreed Anze. “But I need a moment. An hour, no more. To take care of a friend in dire need of help, may you allow me.”

“And does a friend in need of you have the smell of a canine and is sniffing at my feet?” For once, the count grinned. Anze widened his eyes and hurried to beneath the table:

“No, Lilith, get out!”

“Lilith? You named… her? Already?”

Anze bundled Lilith in his arms like a giant baby, “It suits her!”

“Where did you find this dog?”

“By the abandonned bank of Havel River. She was trapped.”

“There probably was a owner?”

“There wasn’t any.” Assured Anze. “She needs me. And she will be a good companion, right, Lilith?”

The collie barked and waved her tail again. The count had to repress a laugh, then he narrowed his eyes. “As long as you’re happy. Just keep her away from me.”

“Why? You aren’t scared of dogs, are you?”

“No. I just don’t like how she glares at me.”

.

.

“Lilith! Lilith, stop, I’m driving!”

Anze shouted out, as his pet kept scouring his bag with her snout and disturbing him. It turned out the dog was attracted to the little white beret he kept in there, and wouldn’t stop until the man gave the hat to her. An idea flicked in Anze’s mind at that moment, and the man paused his car.

“Lilith.” Started Anze. The dog tilted her head, the tip of the beret in her mouth. “Were you any kind of specialist dog?”

The collie only whined in her throat as she gazed at the man with her bright, attentive amber eyes. Anze wasn’t quite sure why he decided to talk with a dog, but eventually, he asked. “Can you… can you track smells?”

Lilith waved her tail.

Then the answer was probably yes.

Anze found a nearby mall and parked his car. He bought a leash for Lilith, and gave the hat to her to sniff again. “Alright, girl, let’s see what you can do.” He mumbled. “Find me the owner of this hat.”

It was a true surprise to Anze when Lilith was both strong and persistent. She led him through street after street of the southern side of the city, through the borough of Neukölln and its busy boulevards, before reaching the locality of Rudow. The collie sniffed and sniffed even though it must be hard to detect smells during winter, all the meantime she perked her ears, excellent manners just like the shepherds in the course of their nightly patrols, and even chattered with local dogs as if she was asking for their information. After a couple of hours wandering, Lilith led Anze distinctly out of the vast hum and clatter of the city, and they reached a suburbing neighborhood. She stood alarmed suddenly, and in a blink of an eye, lurched forwards with great speed and nearly knocked Anze against a wall when she turned at a corner.

“Lilith!” Called out Anze, deeply disappointed, when the man realized the dog was battling with a grey rodent. “I didn’t bring you with me to fight with a raccoon!”

But Lilith didn’t care, and the collie keep on snarling at her enemy. The other animal was defending itself as well, its fur all brisked up, ready to fight. At that moment, a childish voice rang.


	26. Reunite

That evening Ludwig was fixing his crossbow when little Herbert found some time to bother him again. “Ludwig, play with me.” Snivelled the boy, tugging at his feet. But the man only waved his hand:

“I already played with you this morning.”

“But I’m bored.” Whined Herbert. “Pip doesn’t want to play truth or dare, and she’s already chasing the crows.”

“Of course that thing can’t play truth or dare, she’s a raccoon.”

“Then play with me. Please.”

“Then I’ll go first.” Sighed Ludwig, rolling his eyes. Herbert beamed:

“Alright!”

Putting his crossbow down for a minute, Ludwig sneered and ended with a laugh, “I dare you to shut the fuck up.”

“You’re no fun!” Herbert stomped his feet on the ground. The man just shrugged and went on with his fixing:

“Sorry to disappoint you. I’m not your father.”

“You told me you would find papa, though.” At the mention of the count, Herbert chewed on his lips.

“Of course I will.” Assured Ludwig. “But this’s a big city, kid, I can’t find your old man in a day or two. I don’t even know if he’s reached anywhere near.”

“Oh, right. You can’t come out during the day, is that why?”

“You’re not so dumb, after all.”

“I’m not dumb! Why must you be so mean?”

“Sorry, it’s in the blood.” Chuckled Ludwig. “Let me make up for you. You can dare me this round.”

“Really?”

“Go on.”

“So…” Herbert pondered, tapping his chin. “I dare you to tell me about the time you lived here.”

Ludwig grimaced, “That’s a truth thing, not a dare.”

“No, I dare you to tell. It’s still a dare.”

“You little shit.” Muttered Ludwig under his breath. Herbert just begged sweetly:

“Please? I’m really curious.”

“Curious about what? Many things happened here, at least be specific.”

“The time you lived here, as I said.”

“I’ve been living here for a couple of days before I found you, nothing interesting happened.”

“I didn’t mean that!” Whined Herbert again. “Tell me about the war time.”

“How did you know about the war?” Ludwig cast a quick glance.

“You slipped it out yesterday when you were sleepy.”

“I don’t remember a thing.”

“But you did! Tell me! Was you really a soldier? What was it like to be a soldier?” As he asked Herbert gently shook his brother’s arm. Ludwig had to heave another sigh:

“It’s complicated.”

“How?” was a quick reply. “Did you have to work hard? Did you train every single day? Did you… Did you get your own sword?”

“Sword?” Ludwig repressed a laugh. Of course this Herbert wouldn’t know what a gun was. “Yes, I got a special one.”

“Really?” Herbert’s eyes glittered. “What was it like?”

“It’s black, it’s strong, and it can kill a whole group of enemies in only one blow. Pretty cool.”

“That’s amazing! Do you still keep it?”

“No, it broke and I tossed it away.”

“Aww, pity.” Pouted Herbert. “I’d like to see it.”

“No, trust me, you wouldn’t.” For once the man put his weapon away. Leaning languidly in his seat, he stretched and yawned. Herbert tilted his head:

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You always say that.”

“There’re things you’ll understand when you’ve grown up.”

“You’re talking like papa.” Winced Herbert.

“So?” Asked Ludwig.

“Ew.”

It was the sound of dog barking that drew Herbert outside out of curiosity. Ludwig kept an eye on him through the absurdly large hole on the brick wall, in his vision appeared the great field of lamps of a nocturnal city, then of the figure of a man walking swiftly, all of which caught his attention even more. Herbert had faced the stranger man for a few brief seconds, before the boy carried his pet and stormed back inside screaming.

“What is it?” Asked Ludwig, springing from his spot. The boy threw himself into the young man’s lap and sobbed into his coat, his head shook fervently as he whimpered:

“The scary man is after me!”

“Stay here!”

Commanded Ludwig immediately, as he crawled to his bag and grabbed his crossbow. He indicated Herbert to keep quiet, while the boy hid with Pip under the table, as sound of footsteps drew swiftly nearer and clearer, the clopping of shoes on the stony path mingled with the sound of their hearts hammering in their chests. Cautiously, Ludwig made his way to the entrance and vealed himself behind the cupboard, waiting for the door to be unlocked. Soon, the rusty knob turned with difficulty, and as it was opened, the man jumped out, shooting an arrow through the shoulder of whoever just appeared.

The stranger let out a surprise groan and stumbled backwards, fell back flat on the ground, but a dog jumped out from behind his back and launched at Ludwig. The sound it created was madness. The young man got a bite on his arm, but it didn’t prevent him from attacking the stranger, as he strangled them and aimed his crossbow at their head as a threat.

“Lilith, stop!” The stranger called out, at his command the dog at once released Ludwig’s leg. The young man widened his eyes.

“Sir Afanas?”

Silvery-eyes glittered in the dark responded him.

“Ludwig! There you are!” The man beamed, as if there wasn’t an arrow pointing out from his shoulder. Yet, the other man still held his weapon in place.

“Why are you here? What’s your purpose?”

“I was looking for you, of course.” Anze blinked in surprise. “What of that?”

“I don’t believe you.” Gritted Ludwig through his teeth, his crossbow moved to aim at the other man’s heart. “How could you know where I am?”

“I couldn’t. It was Lilith who found this place.”

“Lilith?”

“The dog.” Anze bat his glance to the snarling collie. He swallowed hard when he faced the young man again, “Ludwig, you can put your guard down. I’m family.”

“The fact that you can fuck around with my father doesn’t mean I can trust you. Especially at this moment.”

“Young man, you’re really tense. Look, I’m showing all my hands. I’m not taking any advantage on you, am I not?”

“Stand up. Hands in the air.”

Knowing of Ludwig’s stubborness and hot temper, Anze obliged, didn’t flinch a bit at the sight of a weapon aiming towards him. Still with his grimace, Ludwig asked, “I ask you once more. Why are you here?”

“As I told you, sincerely, I was looking for you.” Returned Anze. “And Herbert.” Added he.

“Why were you looking for us? We’re just getting on a vacation.”

“Ludwig, I don’t think Herbert will approve a haunted house as a place to rest during his vacation. You don’t need to lie.” Sighed Anze. “I’ve known eveything. Well… almost, I believe.”

“You know nothing.” Ludwig scoffed.

“But I do know something.”

“Like what?”

“Your father is worried to the grave, Ludwig.”

Ludwig appeared to hesitate. “He… he is?”

“He’s been devastated.”

“Where is he, then? Where is my father?” The young man’s voice broke.

“Northern Berlin, looking for you and Herbert. He and I split up and I found you here.”

“How can I know you are not one of that snake’s trick? Father wouldn’t confide in you about this situation.”

“Your father didn’t, but Alfred did.”

“Alfred?”

“The boy called me.”

Ludwig’s lips twitched as he cursed, “That little shit.”

“Oh, please don’t take out on him, young man. The boy is just as worried as we are.” Said Anze, then he mumbled to himself, scratching his head, “Should have I said that? Oh dear… I shouldn’t have said that…”

That was when Ludwig knew they were safe. Asmodeus, however clever he was with his tricks, wouldn’t be obeservant enough to mimic Anze’s habit of mumbling the phrase. For once, Ludwig cast a knowing smile, though it was a bit reluctant, and put his guard down. “Where are you two staying?”

“At your father’s old house near Bradenburg Gate. 4 kilometers to the east.”

“Then I’ll incline to bring Herbert there.”

“That’s what I expect. Where’s the boy?”

“Inside. Probably is trembling after you scared the shit out of him.”

“Oh…” Stammered Anze. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t.” Ludwig waved off. “Come in, maybe a proper introduction would help him less frightened.”

.

.

It had been five hours since he set off, and still Count von Krolock was still digging at his problem. The man had taken a great leap into the sky and flown to the less crowded districts of the north, and from that time forward he began to haunt the by-streets of shops and houses. He moved the more swiftly and still the more swiftly, even to dizziness, through wider labyrinths of lamplighted city, brushing against some random passer-by in his indifference, and would pause for a minute or two when he saw a room in a rich house, where a couple of parents spent their holiday time with their babbling child. And still the deeper he fathomed the depth of night, the further he found himself away from finding his familiar figure.

It was another night when all of his effort went in vain and he returned white handed. In spite of the low growl of Berlin all around, the count coated himself with solitary as he briskly made his way from the alley roads, where he landed without being seen, and hurried back home before his damnable thirst forced him to faint.

With a clouded mind, the count opened the door and greeted, recognizing the back of Anze as the man was standing in the kitchen, “Another hopeless night.” He sighed wearily.

If it were the past nights the count would just climb upstairs and locked himself through the day without any further ado. But tonight the night was still young, and welcomed him home was not only the usual voice of Anze, but also a pure sound powerful enough to snap him out of his dolefulness:

“Papa!”


	27. Let your feelings out

The count collasped to his knees when the familiar figure of Herbert greeted him, lurching forwards to hug him a tight embrace, then forcing him to sit on his haunches. No word was uttered at first, when the man could only widen his eyes and tried to comprehend what was happening. This was not a dream, was it?

“Herbert…” Blurted out the count, his voice hoarse and husky, as he let go of Herbert and cupped at his face, stroking it gently. “Finally…” He choked, fumbling his hands to check out on his son. “You’re here... Are you alright? Are you hurt? Or cold? Who… who got you into these clothes?”

The count stammered as he noticed Herbert’s new, clean, warm outfit. The boy had been properly taken care of, and that was when the sight of Ludwig sneaked into the count’s blurry eyes. Achknowleged his father’s attention, Ludwig shoved his hands into his pockets, and hurried to make his way to some distant corner. Herbert shook his head as he went on, “Ludwig found me, and then… and then that big man in the kitchen found us.” He pointed to Anze who had been watching them since the beginning. The other man only nodded.

The count gave Anze a look of gratefulness, before he turned back to his son, “You must be tired. Are you hurt at all? Or hungry?”

“I’m fine. I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” Frowned the count, but his lips were smiling. “I was so scared, Herbert. Please don’t leave me like that again.”

“I’m…” Herbert’s voice started to break. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you happy.”

“What?”

“There was this scary man, and he told me he was an angel. He told me if I… if I followed him, he’d give me a wish.” The boy began to sob. “I just wanted to take that wish for you. Maybe with it, you can make mama return, and you’ll never lock yourself up anymore, and you’ll be happy again. I just wanted to wish you happiness! I didn’t mean to go so far… I’m sorry!”

With tears of fear running down his face and shaking hands, Herbert wailed louder. The count profusedly soothed him, his own eyes puffed, “Sweetie, it’s alright, you don’t have to cry. What can I do to make you smile?”

“Please don’t be mad at me…”

“No, I’m not mad at all.” Assured the count, swiping the tears off Herbert’s puffy eyes and wetted cheeks. The boy shook his head fervently:

“But you’re crying red tears again! You are sad!”

“No, Herbert, I’m not crying… It’s just… I’m just so happy.” The count drew Herbert close to hug him once more, placing soothing kisses on his hair. “I’m happy to see you again.”

“But I couldn’t get the wish for you.” Muffled Herbert against his father’s coat. “How can…”

“But you did. You’re home, now, and you’re safe. That’s all I’ve wanted.”

“You’re not going to punish me for sneaking out?”

“I am not.” Whispered his father. “Just please don’t leave me alone again. If anything happened to you, I won’t be able to stand it. Did he hurt you? Did anyone hurt you?”

“He didn’t, but he tried to.” Herbert shook his head. The count murmured:

“You were very brave, little one. I’m sorry you had to experience all that.”

“I’m sorry, too, papa, I won’t run away like that again. I promise.”

“Good boy.” Praised the count. Herbert’s cries softened:

“So please stop crying? Both of us?”

“Alright, Herbert, I’m not crying anymore.” Smiled the count, staring at Herbert with his softened eyes stained with blood. “Now, let’s get your mind off all of these sad things. Are you hungry? You look thin and pale.”

“No, I just ate. Mr. Big Man over there is a really good cook. And Ludwig drew me a bath earlier.” Herbert was quick to come to giggle, but soon ended with a yawn. “But I’m sleepy. So, so sleepy… I can, you know, sleep for a whole week. I miss my bed.”

“Then let me tuck you in.”

With that the count scooped Herbert up in his arms and brought them both upstairs, letting the boy rest against his shoulder. In no long time Herbert was deep in his sleep, laying comfortably between the plush pillows. It was past midnight when the house was deep in silence again, saved for the ticking sound of the giant clock. Ludwig wandered out from his hiding place, still with his hands in pockets, the young man leaned against the kitchen door.

“He’s so cheesy when it comes to little Herbert.” Scoffed Ludwig. Anze raised his brows:

“Really? I have to admit he’s never been like that with me before.”

“Of course you haven’t seen all of his sides. He’s quite… unapproachable. No offence, I know he wouldn’t hide anything from you unless he feels he needs to, but, you know him, there’re certain things about himself he will never want to admit.” Chuckled Ludwig. “He has a thing for little children. Especially Herbert, he’s his favourite child, after all. Spoiled little brat.”

Anze laughed softly, “You’re saying as if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“What? No.” Protested Ludwig, “It’s not like that. I don’t know how to explain, though, but…” He sighed, scratching his head. “Something pricks inside me whenever I see Herbert being treated that way. Father never pampers anyone so much beside him.”

“I believe it’s called jealousy.”

“You think so, too?” Ludwig laughed bitterly. “Even Alfred told me so.”

“I think you should talk with him.”

“And why?”

“So that he knows how you feel. From what you’re saying, I suppose you want to be coddled as well.”

“It’s not like that.” Ludwig waved off. “He’d just laugh at me.”

“Why would he?”

“I don’t know, just feeling so.” Shrugged Ludwig. “I’m not as close to him as Herbert, and I’m not sentiment like Sarah or Alfred, either.”

“That wouldn’t be enough of a reason for him to make fun of you.” Assured Anze. “He’s your father, after all, isn’t he? Of course he cares about you. I can be certain with you about it.”

“You sound so sure.” Smirked Ludwig. Anze winked:

“Of course I am! You have no idea how he sulked when he found out you were away.”

“That sounds pretty fake, but, okay.” Ludwig barked a laugh. “Father always sulks. Maybe if I came upstairs and said, ‘I love you to the moon and back’, it would force him into a fit for a while.”

“Still worths a try, don’t you think?” Now it was Anze who shrugged. Ludwig slowly made his way out, he said:

“Maybe. Thanks for the advice.”

.

.

Count von Krolock left his son’s bedroom when the small hours of the morning began to grow large, after a night of ease which had finally returned to him, and paid a final loving glance before he exited. In the middle of the curtained hallway, which was endulged in completely pleasant darkness, he met Ludwig. The young man faced him for a few seconds, before intended to head on with a brief nod. The count’s voice stopped him:

“Ludwig.”

The young man tensed and squared his shoulders, as his father slowly approached him. To his utmost surprise, the count grabbed Ludwig by his shoulders and pulled him close, suffocated him in his embrace. This was the second time his father’d made his move and trapped him between his arms, it felt embarrassing, yet, in the meantime, so strangely peaceful. As he was held, Ludwig could hear his father murmur softly, “My child. My best, goodest boy. I’m so proud of you.”

Ludwig laughed off, his voice muffled against his father’s chest, “You’re only saying that because I brought you your favourite son.”

“No, I’m saying that because of how much you’ve grown.” As he said, the count gently brushed Ludwig’s wavy hair. It made the young man want to squirm out of embarrassment. “Mature and responsible with your family.” Added he.

“So you mean I was irresponsible before?”

“More responsible.” The older man corrected.

“Guess I couldn’t do otherwise, though.” Chuckled Ludwig. “He’s your favourite child. You would be deadly depressed without him.”

“Don’t say that, you’re my son, too.” Hushed the count. “Did I do something that offend you so much?”

“No, you didn’t.” Muttered Ludwig. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know. Never mind.”

“Please let me know, Ludwig.” The count demanded, holding his son still. Ludwig tried to wiggle, but soon yielded at the soothing feeling of the count rubbing his back.

“You can let me go now. I’m not a hugger.”

“Ludwig, please tell.” The count was determined.

“I…” Ludwig swallowed audibly, struggling between his words. “I… I feel jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yes.” He confessed. “I feel bad about myself when you seem to love Herbert more. It’s like… it’s like I’m not good enough.”

Damn it, he felt as if his face was burning, Ludwig cursed.

“Oh, my Ludwig…” The count whispered, letting go of his son to stare down at him. “I’m sorry I made you feel so.”

“It’s true that I can’t be as good as him, though. He’s bright, he’s clever, he’s smart. I can only fight and bring troubles.”

“And I’m proud to have a warrior like you in my bloodline.” The older man smiled. “And remind you, Herbert is much more of a troublesome child.”

“Really?” Scoffed Ludwig.

“You see him.”

“But he’s still your biological son.” Ludwig found him another reason. “I’m only adopted. Of course you would love him more than me.”

“Ludwig, you’re my son no matter what, and that means I love you all equally. What do you think Sarah and Alfred would feel if they heard you said so?”

“I… I didn’t mean…” Whimpered Ludwig, trailing his words away. “I’m sorry. That’s a stupid thought.”

The count released his shoulders and stood upright, “Herbert is more of an emotionally fragile than you, even though he’s much older, he’s the softer between you two. He needs more pampering to keep his mental health balance, though I admit it’s true that I’ve been quite rottenly spoiling him since he was a little boy. You, on the other hand, are older, and more stable in your mind while younger in your age. I’m not saying that’s the reason I should neglect you, I’m saying that he needs me more than you need me. But I maybe wrong. You can tell me if I am. Let me know if you want a hug, or something. I’m not judging you. I’ve never judged you, have I?”

“I guess you’re right.” Though pouted, Ludwig agreed. “But the past few days…well, I still felt a little bit left out.”

“I’m sorry my decision in actions made you feel so. I should’ve thought more thoroughly. You have the rights to get upset at me.”

“I’m not upset, really.” Assured Ludwig. “Don’t worry, this’s just my face, I’m not demanding for anything. Well, maybe a bit pampering from you from time to time. I’m not fond of cuddling, but, you know, it’d feel nice if you asked about me as much as when you asked Herbert about his nights.” He meekly confessed. “But on the whole, let’s keep everything as it has been, it’s not that bad. I only wanted to… you know, share my feelings? Anze adviced me to do so.”

“I see.” Smiled the count affably. “And how do you feel after pouring it all out?”

“Less burdened, I guess, and a little embarrassed. At least I know for sure that you still love me. Don’t you?”

“One day you’ll learn that although I may express my love to you differently, I still care about you all the same.”

“You say as if I’m still a little kid.”

“You’re my son. Of course you’re always just right to me.”

“That’s gross.” Laughed off Ludwig. The count joined him:

“Are you satisfied with my answers?”

“I think so.” Sighed the young man. “It’s better to get the feelings off my chest.”

“I’m glad to hear.” The count sounded pleased. “Is that why you decided to travel alone?”

“What?” Stammered Ludwig, his voice raised. “Well, I… um, yes… I thought it’d be a good idea to trade myself to bring Herbert’s back.”

“It isn’t.”

“Yes, I know.” The young man lowered his head, like a schoolboy being scolded. “Sorry.”

“Listen, Ludwig, I didn’t bring you home so you can find a chance to get back to his place. I doubt that man would do anything more pleasant than what he’s already done to you, nor keep his words in a compromise. So please don’t do that thing again to me, will you?”

Ludwig nodded.

“Let me know if anything troubles you. Don’t hold it inside against me. Please?”

“I promise.” Whispered the young man. “I’m feeling better now. Thank you for listening.”

“And thank you for taking up my responsibility to take care of your siblings.” Smiled the count. Ludwig felt he wanted to blush.

“I’m sleepy. Is there any spare room in this house?” He asked.

“You can use my old bedroom. Upstairs, first one to your right.”

“Thanks.” Returned Ludwig. “Goodnight. I mean… good day, father.”

“Good day, Ludwig.”


	28. Trust

The new day arrived with complete silence. For the first time, Anze came to knock on the count’s bedroom door, with a mere desire to check out on him, but no one answered, nor escaped from the room a single sound. Boldly, he creak opened the door, just to see it was not locked, and the space was empty, before he took to his heels and quickly strode to the business room. There, coated in the darkness of the curtained study, lightened up by only one single oil lamp, stood Count von Krolock, burried deep in some of his thoughts again, as the man faced Anze with only his back when he stood by his desk.

“The dawn breaks.” Started Anze. “Are you not going to sleep?”

“In a minute.” Returned the count, his hand put down something that looked like a picture frame. Anze slowly approached.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Returned the other man, blankly. He found himself grabbed by the hip, and Anze spun him around so that they could face each other.

“You still look very stressed.” Commented Anze, gazing attentively. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just my face, silly.” Assured the count, patting the other man’s cheek. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” Nodded he.

“Alright… Good.” Anze nodded in response. “I was worried that something else happened to you.”

“You don’t have to.” Smiled the count, though wearily. “I was only thinking.”

“And what is it that’s troubling your mind?”

“Well…” Sighed the man, “You’ve done so much for me. About Herbert… This house… I don’t know how I can pay you for all of this.”

“Don’t mention it.” Anze waved off, chuckling. “You see me as a family, don’t you? He’s your son. He’s my son, too. I know we’re just still… dating, but, you know... It’s my responsibility.”

“I still feel restless not doing anything for you.”

“Oh, don’t say that.” Whispered Anze, leaning close that their forehead touched. “You’ve done a lot. You just don’t know it.”

“Like what?” Smirked the count.

“Countless things.” Giggled Anze. “You listen. You keep me companied when I’m in bad mood. You shower me with praises and presents. Many, many more. I can even make a list for you.”

“That can not change my mind.”

“Is that so?” Anze placed a comforting kiss on the other man’s brows. “Then put trust in me. That’s all I ask of you.”

“Of course I believe in you.”

“Even with the plan?”

“The plan?” The count came to remember. “Ah, then we’re talking about that. You’re going to take Herbert to your mother to undo the curse, aren’t you?”

“Can you count on me?”

“I…” The count appeared to hesitate. He averted his eyes, and his voice was husky, somewhat broken. “Yes.” He managed.

“Certain?” Asked Anze.

“Certainly.” Nodded the count. “Just… let me be with him for another night? You see, it’s been a long time since I was last able to hold him. I miss those days when he still needed me.”

“You’re thinking too much, Johannes. No matter what, the boy still needs you.”

“He’d be grown up again, Anze. When children were children, they would run up to you every day and be excited to be picked up. Now they would just see you as a naggy old man. I, too, regret the time when he was in his adolescence. There were so many differences between us. I should have talked to him more.”

“You can still talk with him. I believe he’ll be more willing to open up to you.”

“You think so?”

“Of course. Nobody knows Herbert more than you.”

“Oh… well, thank you.” The man heaved another sigh. “That’s good to know.”

“I’m taking him with me tomorrow morning.” Assured Anze. “Which means you still have one more night to be with him.”

“Is it safe? The teleporting, I mean.”

“I’ll lend him my amulet. He’ll be fine.”

“Thank you so much, Anze.”

“I’m thinking…” The other man went on, making his first move and snuggling closer the crook of the count’s neck, as he pressed him against the desk he was leaning on. His voice a low, grumbling growl, “Perhaps when all these deeds are done, we could adopt another child.”

“You want to?” The count sounded surprised.

“Indeed.” Returned Anze, as he began to trail kisses along the count’s neck. He purred, “I would love to raise a baby with you.”

“We’ll see.” Chuckled the count. “As it happens, I think I should give Koukol a raise to atone for all the problems to come. Herbert and Ludwig are enough of two demons already.”

“I believe Alfred is influenced as well.” Anze laughed.

“I’m not worried much about him. Clumsy as he might seem, the boy knows how to handle everything.”

“Now look who’s your favourite child.”

“Anze, please. Enough with the favourite child thing.” The count rolled his eyes. A soft laugh replied him, then a sudden nib on his skin made him gasp. He turned sharply, and warned, “No, Anze, now is not the time.”

“Just a moment.” Begged the other man, his voice sugary sweet. The count only pushed him away.

“No.”

“Please?” He hummed. “It’s been so long. You have no idea how I yearned to be with you… I want you.”

“Tomorrow, Anze.” The count promised. “Once I’ve seen my son safe and sound back here, you may do whatever you want.”

.

.

The roosters crowed from a nearby barn announced that it was high time they departed. In the whole extend of the mansion clothed carefully with curtains, stood four people in the living room, Herbert dressed to the nines as he waited for his trip in pure excitement, scrutinizing at the piece of amulet that Anze gave him. Meanwhile, his father was the total contrast of him, the man only stood in completely silence, gazing attentively at his son, by his side accompanied by his other one. Hugging his pet raccoon, Herbert asked:

“Can Pip come with us?”

“I’m afraid she can’t, little one.” Returned Anze. “Your pet has already travelled a long way, she must be very exhausted.”

“Oh, I see.” Pouted Herbert. “Pity. Will she be sad?”

“Only a little. She has Lilith as her friend now, don’t you see?”

“You’ll see her again, soon.” Assured the count. “We’ll take care of her for you.”

“So papa is not coming along, too?”

“I’m sorry, little one, I need to take care of Ludwig as well, and wait for Sarah and Alfred.”

“That doesn’t sound very fancy to me.” Whimpered Herbert.

“Doesn’t sound very fancy to me, either.” Agreed Ludwig. The count cleared his throat:

“I thought you wanted to be taken care of.”

“I didn’t mean to be babysat.”

“Alright.” Smirked the count. “I’ll say I won’t keep that in mind.”

“You’re scary.” Shuddered Ludwig with a grimace on his face. Then, he once again turned to his brother, “Teasing Herbert is much more fun.”

“You’re mean, Ludwig.” Scolded Herbert, sticking out his tongue. “Bleh!”

“Whoa what’s that attitude you little shit?”

“Ludwig, language.” Warned the count. Herbert giggled. He asked:

“So where are we going again?”

“To a magical park for a walk.” Reminded Anze. “There’re some interesting things I would like to show you.”

“Really?” Herbert beamed. “I love magics. It’s nice. But papa… the evil man also told me he would show me some magic.”

“Worry not, little one, you can trust Anze. He’s a good friend, and means no harm.” Comforted the count. Ludwig piped in sneering, cocking his brows:

“Yeah, until some magical carnivorous plant jumps out and swallows you whole.”

“Stop picking on your brother.” Ordered the count. Herbert stomped his feet and shouted:

“Yes, stop being mean, you fuck!”

And there went the awkward silence.

The count cast Ludwig a warning glance, and a smile that sent shivers down his spine. “You… **fuck**?” He repeated, most intentionally. Ludwig cringed:

“I know nothing.”

Anze piped in, “Easy on him, Johannes, he’s still young and learning. Bad habits are hard to break.”

“This is not the first time I’ve warned you about cursing, Ludwig. And don’t abet him, Anze, or I’ll have your head.” The count glared. Anze gasped and swallowed hard:

“Oh, alright, my bad… Then I’ll… um, get going now, with Herbert of course.” At once, he bid his departure. “Goodbye and see you soon.”

With that they disappeared. Ludwig immediately yelled as his father pulled his ears.


	29. The viscount returns

Hitherto, it was Ludwig who was taking care of Pip and Lilith. He took them to bath, dried them, and brushed their fur, all of which were done in completely sombre excitement just because his father ordered him to do so, as a punishment for being a terrible influence on little Herbert. Like his father, Ludwig was not really fond of animals, though he admitted it was nice to have some pets to keep company from time to time, but mostly, like this time, he just wanted to indulge in his own interests, including testing those cars that he found in the garage. If only he had the key.

It was nearly dawn, which meant, approximately, a day later, when Ludwig was feeding the pets for the last time and sensed the presence of other people. With clear indifference, which was merely an act of the dramatic youth, he turned around, and greeted with an extravagant slump of his shoulders, as Lilith ran past him and barked:

“I didn’t expect you two to come back so soon.”

There, standing in the living room beside Anze, was Herbert, a hearty, healthy, dapper gentleman, with a boisterous manner and a familiar grin on his face. At sight of his brother and pet, Herbert welcomed them with both hands. The geniality, as was the way of the young man, was somewhat theatrical to Ludwig’s eye, but at least, it reposed on genuine feeling. Herbert returned:

“Feeling disappointed to see me already?”

“Every day is disappointing day.” Chuckled Ludwig, mostly sneering. “How’s the trip?”

“Quite pleasant.” Smiled Herbert, swaying his head slightly from side to side. “Got new clothes, attained new look, met new people, and big dad helped me catch up with what’s happening.”

“Big dad?” Chortled Ludwig, glancing at Anze who was busying coddling his dog. The older man seemed to notice and blush somehow. Herbert giggled:

“Why not?”

“Never mind, then.” Ludwig shook his head. “Now you’re here at last, I suggest you getting to see father. Old man has been worrying his heart in and out.”

“Of course I will.” Returned Herbert. “I miss him already, though I have no memory of what happened after I was turned into a lad.”

“Better be that way, you were a pain in the ass. It’s a relief I don’t have to babysit you anymore.”

“Why must you always be so mean?” Herbert barked a laugh. “Anze told me everything. You were a very protective brother. How surprising.”

“Disgusting.” Shuddered Ludwig. “It’s a good riddance you’re back to normal now.”

“Aww, my brother Ludwig is being shy, so shy.”

“Leave me alone, will you?” Grunted the younger man. “Go bother your father.”

“Where’s he now?”

“I last saw him enter the business room.” Ludwig pointed upstairs. “Didn’t see him come out since then.”

“Thanks.” Nodded Herbert. “Then I’m going. May you excuse me.”

“Scoot.” Ludwig drawled his voice, giving a stretching yawn as he flexed his muscles. “Don’t overtax him with anything, though, he was really emotionally fragile last night.”

“Won’t you come along?”

“No, thanks, he made me babysit the pets and clean the house all day long. Do you have a single idea how enormous this mansion is? Man, Koukol is a monster to easily handle the whole castle. I’m wrung out. I’m going to sleep.”

With that the young man bid his goodbye, and hurriedly headed back to his chamber. Anze tucked Lilith and Pip in neatly and stepped forward, touched Herbert on the shoulder as he passed, his head beckoning the younger man to follow him upstairs. The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled out suddenly louder as they stopped in front of the study. Herbert came to knock on the door.

There was only silence that answered. After a few raps and received the same thing, they decided to turn the knob, quietly stepping inside.

The dark study was lit up by several lanterns that almost went out, the little flame light drew a large silhouette of a sleeping man on the brick wall. Count von Krolock was bending over the desk he sat by, his face burried in a pile of papers and some notebooks. The other men couldn’t help but laughed softly at the sight, and Anze had to be the first to whisper:

“Even when there’s electricity, he still doesn’t know how to use it.”

“What can I say?” Joined Herbert, “He’s the old-fashioned type. A bit too old-fashioned, I have to admit.” He ended with a chuckle.

“And I have to say I found it’s what’s attractive of him.” Confessed Anze, crossing his arms. Herbert rolled his eyes:

“You’re just as weird.”

Without further ramblings, Herbert walked towards his father. The count still didn’t notice anything, as if he was too exhausted to sense the smallest of sound, and Herbert’s smile turned into a grin as he leaned against his desk beside him. The young man rested his arms on the surface, and with his softest, sweetest voice, he called:

“Father.”

The count still didn’t move. Herbert went on, his voice turned playful, “Father, father… Wake up and see who’s home.”

The man still didn’t react. Herbert began to pout. “Father?”

“My goodness, I think I hear him snore.” Muttered Anze from afar.

Herbert huffed. He leaned closer to the count’s ear, and with a smile which couldn’t be anymore mischievous, the young man raised his voice to a high pitch:

“Cuckoo!”

“What?”

The count bolted right up with a yelp, followed with an expecting laugh of his son. Anze couldn’t hide his giggles, either. It took the count several seconds to comprehend what was happening, his eyes blinked continuosly as they adjusted to the dim light, and gradually, in his blurry vision which still hadn’t left the sleepy state, appeared the sight of Herbert.

The count widened his eyes, couldn’t come to his words.

For a few more solid seconds, their eyes aligned, just fixed on each other. One could notice, however weakly and subtly to the normal eyes, the count was trembling, audible the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. Herbert was the first to say:

“Hell, didn’t I really overtax you?”

At the sound of his son’s voice, the count swallowed. “Herbert?” He eventually managed.

The young man smiled so wide that he narrowed his eyes, “Did you sleep well?”

“I… no, I mean… I was not sleeping.” Stammered the older man. “Just… accidentally dozing out.”

“There’re still traces of books press on your cheeks.”

“What?” The count reached to touch his face. Herbert laughed:

“Just kidding!”

“Herbert, you naughty demon!”

“And are you happy to see this demon summoned successfully?” Herbert cheered up brighfully. Now it was the count came to laugh:

“I didn’t expect you to return this soon, though.”

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” Herbert pretended to sound offended, standing straight up, hands on his hips. “You don’t love me!”

“You say so, not me.” The count cocked his brow. Herbert huffed again:

“Sometimes you’re just as mean as Ludwig.”

With that the young man lowered himself, and without any warning, grabbed at his father and pulled him into a hug. The count was taken aback by this sudden act at first, but eventually returned the embrace and gently brushed Herbert’s hair. It was cut short by now, but was enough to let him slide his fingers between the bright blond locks. Herbert whispered, “But I like that.”

“Flatterer.” Chuckled the count. Herbert giggled:

“You’re supposed to say that I have the charm of speech.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Geez.” Pouted Herbert, finally letting his father go, didn’t forget to place on his cheek a quick peck that left him dumbfounded for a moment. The young man peered closer to the desk and crooned, “What were you doing, by the way?”

“Nothing!” The count returned immediately, as he hurried to hurl the pile of papers into the drawer. He shook his head, “Nothing important.”

“Confidental information, huh?”

“Just go to sleep, Herbert, you must be tired.” The count averted his eyes. Herbert groaned:

“Come on, father, let me be curious for just a few minutes.”

“I’m afraid you can’t. This is my privacy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Alright. As you wish.” Whistled the young man. “Then I’ll leave you to it, I’m a little sleepy by the way. See you tomorrow night.”

“See you tomorrow night.”

Herbert’s soft giggles could still be heard when he sauntered like a cat on patrol along the corridor. Once there was only him and the other man in the study, the count heaved a long, relieving sigh, as he leaned against his working desk.

“Are you alright?” Frowning Anze a little bit, observing. The count didn’t notice he was approaching him, until his giant shadow was covering them both.

“I’m not sure.” Admitted the count carelessly. “Why did you ask?”

“You still seem… I don’t know. Distressed? Disturbed? There’s still a frown on your face. I thought you would smile.”

“Worry not, Anze, if there was anything uncomfortable, then I would have told you.”

“Then how are you feeling right now?”

“Well…” Sighed the count, casting the man in front of him a quick glance before staring down at his feet. “Perhaps a little overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” Repeated Anze. “Goodness, didn’t the boy scare you or something?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m feeling… I don’t know.” He chuckled. “A pinch of happiness. A hint of regret. A little sadness. It’s like a muddle inside my head.”

“You still miss his baby form, don’t you?”

“Perhaps… Perhaps you’re right.” Nodded the count. “I’m sorry... I lament on the past again.”

“I don’t mind.” Returned Anze, as he pressed closer and their forheads touched. “You have your stories. You can tell me what’s happening in your head, if it helps you feel any better.”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to lead him back into this un-life.” Confessed the other man.

“And what makes you think so?”

“Eternity is a curse.” Gritted the count. “If he was still a baby human he could grow up once more… Have a more meaningful life.”

“But you know what will happen if he remains human, don’t you?”

“Death upon my children is something I never want to face. But at least, in that case, he wouldn’t have to suffer like me.”

“You’ve done all the best for him, Johannes.” Replied Anze, in his tone lingered sympathy, and full of gentleness. The man gently turned his partner’s face to look straight at him. “And one can does not change the truth that he, Herbert himself, chose to keep you companied in this eternity. You’ve made sure he never suffered from anything, and we can all see that he enjoys to be by your side.”

“And what is your point from telling me this?”

“Only Herbert knows what’s the best for him. There’s no need to sabotage his decision.”

“Anze, I’ve seen him through all of his rises and falls. I think…”

“You’re thinking too much.” Hushed Anze. “You can’t live their lives for them, Johannes. I understand it’s hard when they’re not merely fledglings like those back in the graveyard, with them as your own children I know they bear a much greater meaning to you, but it’s time you put trust in them and allowed them to leave your wings.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust them.”

“Then listen to me, even just this time.”

“I’ll…” Sighed the count. “I’ll think of it.”

“Allow yourself to get some rest for once, Johannes.” Whispered the other man. “Your children would appreciate it if you do so.”

“You sound like an expert in parenting.” Commented the count.

“Not me, it’s all mother’s knowledge.” Chuckled Anze. For the first time the count eased his brows:

“Then I suppose I’d better follow those advices.”

“No one gives better advices, I tell you.”

“Good to know.” Crooned the younger man. He straightened himself, and Anze stepped a step back.

“You’re smiling.” Commented Anze. The count nodded:

“Thank you for all of it.”

“I told you not to mention it at all.” Reminded the other man. “What were you doing anyway?”

“Doing what?”

“The papers in the drawer.” He pointed out. “What’s your little secret?”

“Nothing.” Repeated the count. Anze pretended to pout:

“Even I am not allowed to access confidental information?”

“Just some random scribbles.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist.”

“I’m not. Just a habbit I’ve developed to kill time.”

“Why didn’t you show him the sketches?” Querried Anze. The count shook his head and chuckled:

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Why so?”

“I drew him. He’d just laugh.” Admitted the count. “And also his mother.” He lowered his voice. “I… I just don’t want to forget her face.”

The dawn broke into silence so sharp that it could be cut with a knife. Count von Krolock made his way across the study when the first oil lantern snuffed out completely, patting the other man’s back as he slowly headed out. “It’s really late.” He spoke. “Why don’t you go to sleep?”

“I’m not sure.” Shrugged Anze, pacing around at one spot. “Maybe gonna lurking around a little bit out of boredom. Are you leaving?”

“Heading back to bed.” Nodded the younger man. “Pity that we don’t have coffins here.”

“Oh, come on, Johannes, aren’t big, plushy beds much more comfortable than those cramped coffins?”

“Well… Perhaps.”

“Perhaps? Only perhaps? After several times you racked your spine sleeping in coffins?”

“Coffins feel more secured.”

“I can secure you in bed, though.” Winked Anze.

“And what does that even mean?” The count crooned.

“It means that I want to go to bed with you.” The other man whispered adoringly, as he idly approached to snuggle close at the count. He seized the younger man’s hand, “Get your mind off with those negative thoughts. Some cuddle sounds majestic to me.”

“You say as if I’m a fragile damsel.”

“I’d love to spoil you, after all.”

“You’re a flatterer.” The count rolled his eyes. Anze only laughed.


	30. Small talk

Snow started to fall once more upon the streets of Berlin, bringing with it the frost, and the chill that would concern anyone without a patted coat. Fire was lit up more often in the heart of the citadel, but to the far north of the city, where fewer residents to none of them would dwell due to damages of war and the harsh environment, it remained dark, and cold. There, in the middle of a used to be bustling district, located an abandoned entertainment park. Its facilities were all rusty and frozen, some even decayed and crumpled into metalic pieces. Every random passer by would notice no sign of life flickered from that place, and thus, between the howling wind no one would notice the distant sound of someone screaming.

Asmodeus shrank back in his chair with a hissing intake of the breath. Laid upon the table in front of him were several chemical instruments of his, including four flashes of liquids in different colours, a small mixing machine, some leftover of a pack of strange powder he was able to purchase from the other world’s market, and an injection needle that had been used, with drops of blood still dripping from the sharp tip. Asmodeus clutched at his arm where he just had injected himself. There had been experiments, leaving on the floor corpses of rats and birds on which the man tested days earlier. Landing on the window still, observing him carefully, was a murder of crows. They were all mutant, results of the fact that his formula had finally been done right, bigger than any species of ravens could be, and all were hungry for blood. They tilted their head and stared at the dripping blood from the needle, and then the one on Asmodeus’ bare arm.

Asmodeus stiffled his groan as his body twitched. It felt like insanity, as if someone was pulling all of his inner organs out, before slamming them back inside his throbbing body. Yet, the man stood his ground, with a strong belief that this time, his experiment on himself had to work. It was supposed to work, the trader of the magical powder had assured him so. But the agony soon kicked every single thoughts out of his brain again, and the man shoved all of his intruments from the table onto the ground in his control-losing madness. The sound of objects crashing was deafening, the furniture was tossed away, threatening the crows that they flew and flocked around above him, all of which mingled with his scream which now could not be hidden anymore. Asmodeus could hear his bones crack. His eyes flung open, amber irises tinted with red veins and merged into a pair of complete golden orbs with slits, darting crazily from side to side as scales were emerging from his skin, trailing around his neck and up to his face. His pallor turned sick and white with a desire to kill, and he tore apart his clothes into drags. As he writhed on the floor, Asmodeus’ lower half transformed into his tail of a reptile, wretching everything on his way, but his scales didn’t stop by his waist anymore, this time began to covered up to his upper half.

Asmodeus roared once he could feel his arms no more. The pain, finally, gradually subsided, as he slowly lifted himself up from where he was squirming on the ground. He tilted his head. The room suddenly became cramped, looking like a battlefield, filled with ruins and new corspes of crows. Asmodeus looked down at himself.

He had become a giant python.

The man let out a savage hiss.

.

.

Anze bolted up with a sharp intake of his breath. As though was pitching in red hot, his body sweated and he panted heavily. His posture was stiff, and he sat there on his bed with clouded brows until he could regain his cool. Anze rubbed his face with both hands. This was not the first time he’d had a bad dream, yet the man was concerned that his least expected nightmare returned to haunt him in the most unexpected occasion. Every time it came to his mind, the man would see by his side stood a figure to whom power was given, and even at that hour of death, he would rise and do its bidding. The figure had no face, and even though it creeped stealthily through his memory throughout those long years, its identity still baffled him and melted before his eyes, leaving him only a feeling of emptiness and an agony on the back of his head which was so painful he felt he might explode. His side of the duvet plucked apart, the man shifted uncomfortably as he glanced at the clock on the wall. Then, he would be aware of the great field of a thriving city outside the curtained window, a sign that the day was still young and he was fortunate to be still alive – somehow, but the man found he couldn’t come back to his sleep.

“Johannes.”

Anze whispered, turning to his side with a sudden hope that he was not alone. The man allowed himself to relax his shoulders and sighed, when there, on his stomach between the plush pillows, his partner still lay asleep, probably dreaming and smiling at his own dreams. It had been a custom of Anze, to stay and gaze at his beloved ones when they were still sleeping, like at this moment, the man dived in the sight of scarce peace that washed over his partner’s face. “You sleep like a cat.” The man murmured softly, much adoringly, as he tucked a strand of hair cascading over the count’s face, and he stifled his laugh when the other man didn’t notice anything or even flinch at all. Count von Krolock, however little he slept, was a heavy sleeper, and Anze took his chance to lean closer and placed tiny kisses on his head, trailing down to his back and arms, soothing the faint bruises decorating his pale skin.

Anze got out of bed when it was only four in the afternoon. The house was still quiet, greeted him when he reached downstairs was only a whimper of Lilith before she returned to her nap, while Pip was busying herself with a ball of strings she found somewhere no one knew. Anze stretched himself as he walked, the man languidly strode down to the kitchen and brew himself some coffee. There were still some packs left in the cupboard, to his relief. When he was preparing water, Ludwig’s voice rose behind him:

“I would appreciate if you could make me a cup like yours.” The young man ended with a large yawn, before allowing himself to go slump, quite unruly, in one of the dining seats. Anze asked from his shoulder:

“You drink coffee, too?”

“Can’t live without it.” Chuckled Ludwig, stretching his legs as he laid them across the table. “Can you make it black?”

“Only black coffee?” Asked Anze.

“Yes, please. I’m not fond of sugary or creamy things.”

“Then your coffee wouldn’t be like mine, though.” Anze laughed softly, pouring the ground beans into two mugs. “I always have milk and sugar in my brew.”

“You sure have a sweet tooth.”

“Indeed.” Nodded the older man. “I love sweet things. Even if they’re tooth-rotten sweet.” He happily hummed as he stirred their beverage, and in a moment brought two steamy mugs to the dining place. He patted on Ludwig’s thighs after setting down his mug, “Don’t put your legs on the table.”

“Why?” Pouted Ludwig, but obeyed, nonetheless. Anze took a sip from his drink:

“Table manners, of course.”

“Man, you sound like father.” Ludwig chortled, rolling his eyes. Anze asked:

“Why are you up so early?”

“I’ve slept enough, I guess.” Shrugged the young man, relished in his bitter beans juice. “I went to bed early yesterday, after all. Now my brain is just fully awake.”

“Good thing to get up early.”

“But I prefer sleeping in. Today is just unexpected.”

“Well, it feels nice to be lazy sometimes.” Admitted Anze, taking another sip. “I suppose I need to change my sleeping habit in near future. Lilith will need to be taken out for a walk in the morning.”

“I believe it’s not any difficult of a task for you, no?” Pondered Ludwig. “I mean, you can come out in broad daylight.”

“Quite a blessing.” Nodded Anze.

“Good for you.” Ludwig flicked his tongue. The older man asked:

“You’re not uncomfortable about that, are you? Not pouting? Not having a green eye?”

“What? No, it’s fine.” Assured the young man. “I was only stating a fact. Our kind may have this eye-sore disadvantage but, you see, there’re other advantages.” He shrugged. “It’s a universal truth. You got something, you wouldn’t have the other, and vice versa. Though I have to say, as a powerful ancestor as he always claims himself, Vlad Dracula is such a loser for not finding any cure for this weakness of burning in daylight. It’s the most annoying thing.”

“I feel you there.” Smiled Anze, much warmly. “But speaking about Vlad, it’s been a long time since I last heard anything about him.”

“I have no clue, either.” Confessed Ludwig. “He’s not my sire, anyway, and I doubt father keeps in touch with him anymore. That old man must have retired.”

“Retired?” Anze couldn’t hide his laugh. Ludwig joined in:

“Something like that. His strategy in increasing our population is just awful and out of date.”

“Well, probably the Dark Council saw that too and decided it’s high time.”

“I hope so. Glad that father doesn’t have to meet him anymore, or at least he doesn’t seem so tense mentioning him. If Vlad appears again, well, I doubt father would hesitate to slit his throat.”

“Is it allowed of your kind to eliminate your own sire?” Frowned Anze, questioning.

“No, but rules are made to be broken.” Returned Ludwig carelessly. “The more you understand the law, the more easily you can get away with your deeds. But please, I’m just saying, don’t tell on me with father, he’d have my head.”

“You do sound like me when I was younger.” Laughed out Anze. Ludwig was surprised:

“So proud to hear that.”

“But wait…”

“What?”

“If it’s prohibitted to get rid of your sire, then how are we going to deal with… that snake guy?” A little reluctantly, Anze asked. “Technically, he’s your sire, but after what I’ve heard about his doings, I believe none of us would want him to be alive. I mean… he’s not alive the way humans are, but… well, you get the concept.”

“I think father will have a way.” Ludwig’s face fell. “He’s good with law. Perhaps drag that asshole to court and end him legally, if we’re lucky enough.”

“I see.” Mumbled Anze. “I’m sorry for what you had to experience with him.”

“It was horrendous.” Agreed Ludwig. “That man is simply insane. Obssessed with both science and myths, how ironic that is. I lost an eye because of him.”

“What happened, if I may ask?”

“Well…” Ludwig tried to recall. “It was ages ago, I forgot what year it was. He was doing this experiment about enhancing the hybrids’ vision. You see, he has snake eyes, and those reptiles can’t see very well. So he got this mixture of some liquid I don’t know, which he called special eye-drops. But of course, he was not too dumb to test on himself.”

“He tested on you.” Muttered Anze.

“Yeah, it was awful.” Sighed Ludwig. “It felt scorching, I can still remember, and in a minute or two my left eye got this milky colour, dried and stoned, and I couldn’t see with it anymore. I wished I could die, but since he’d turned me, I could not, unless he or somebody granted me a grace and staked me, while I was too much of a coward to stake myself – to be honest there’re still too many things I want to fulfill, that’s why. Fortunately I got to escape before he had a chance to test on my other orb.”

“I’m really sorry, Ludwig.”

“It’s alright.” The young man waved off. “Got used to it anyway. At least now I don’t have to squint one eye when using crossbows or guns.”

“You and Herbert do have commendable spirit of optimism.”

“Excuse me, what?” Ludwig almost choked on his drink. “Hell, Herbert and me?” He barked a laugh. “That dandy boy’s concept of optimism is far different than mine.”

“And how is that?” Anze’s laugh vibrated softly.

“Herbert sees the world as if everything is painted in pink.” Snorted Ludwig, but it was only pretending. “He can see the best in almost anything. But the world in my view? I scowl upon it with my forbidding eye. It’s just lucky enough I’m still alive somehow.”

“I see.” Hummed Anze. It was that moment when Herbert decided to appear, all dressed up properly.

“Good evening.” Started Herbert, carefreely taking a seat next to his brother. The other young man only snorted:

“It was a good evening until you arrived.”

“I heard you two mention my name.” The Viscount stretched his shoulders. “You’re not talking bad things behind my back, aren’t you?”

“Of course, just pointing out how much of a little shit you are.”

“Language, Ludwig.” Glared Herbert. The other man just sneered:

“You’re not my father.”

Anze piped in, “It’s only half past five. You’re up pretty early.”

“I’m hungry.” Explained Herbert. “Is this coffee?” He peered closer to the mug in Ludwig’s hands. The other young man offered his drink:

“Want some?”

“No, thanks.” Sniffed Herbert with a grimace. “Smells like instant coffee.”

“It’s actually instant coffee.” Returned Anze. “I didn’t buy any good one, so this is what we’ve got so far.”

“The fop only demands the most luxurious things, even if it comes to coffee.” Chuckled Ludwig, followed with an ‘ _ouch’_ as Herbert knocked on his head with his knuckles. The viscount went on:

“Grandma’s tea helped subside the thirst for some time, but I’m feeling my stomach gnaw again.”

“Who’s grandma?” Ludwig turned to Herbert. The viscount played with his hair as he spoke:

“Big dad’s mother.” He winked. “She’s pretty badass I tell you.”

“Cool.” Crooned his brother. “She turned you back, didn’t she?”

“A natural soceress.” Praised Herbert. “She even said she was fond of me!”

Ludwig couldn’t help but mock again, “I would appreciate if she decided to keep you forever. Then I’ll be father’s favourite child.”

“Enough with that joke, please, your father will have our heads if it slips into his ears.” Anze cleared his throat, with a frightened face that anyone could see it was an act of him. The others joined each other in a laughing fit.

“Whatever you say, I’m hungry as well.” Uttered Ludwig. Anze pointed out:

“There’s some pig blood in the fridge. I purchased it yesterday while buying meat for Lilith.”

“It’ll make do.” Thanked Herbert. Ludwig only shook his head:

“No, thanks. I’m just gonna go hunting.”

“You don’t like it? It’s still as good as human’s blood.” Asked Anze.

“Please, Anze, I respect that you don’t consume human’s blood. So respect me that I don’t consume fake one.”

“It’s real blood, though, just not human’s.” Chuckled Anze. “But if you insist, then let it be.”

“Where’s father, anyway?” Went on Herbert. “He’s going to miss breakfast.”

“Still sleeping, I guess.” Shrugged Ludwig, idling in his chair. Herbert’s face was questioning:

“He rarely sleeps in like this.”

“Let your father rest for a little more.” Returned Anze. “He had quite a hard day.”

“A hard day? But I arrived yesterday and obviously he wan’t doing anyt… Oh.” Exclaimed Herbert, who was soon mouth agape when Anze playfully winked. Ludwig only had to shake his head and grunted. The young viscount giggled, “Oh, I see. Alright… This odd knowledge has been learnt.”

Ludwig just grimaced, “What are we going to do with this information, anyway?”


	31. Family gathering

A fortnight later since the first day when everything began, by excellent fortune, Sarah and Alfred set their first steps on the land of Berlin. They hurried out of the station when it grew dusk, Sarah widened her eyes at the sight of the big lamplighted city before her, which was bustling with people eager for their winter holidays, and she couldn’t help herself from swirling around and tasting the white flakes decending from the sky as though it was her first time she’d seen snow. Meanwhile, Alfred was much less interested, he’d had enough of the chill in the streets throughout his childhood, and the young man nervously rubbed his gloved hands together as he breathed out:

“Sarah, slow down! You’re going to get lost!”

The girl only smiled back as she paused, “Worry not, genius, I know how to take care.”

“It’s still a terrible scenario if we get seperated in a distant city.” Mumbled Alfred. “We have to get to our shelter.”

The girl pouted, “The night is still young, how about sightseeing a little bit?”

“Sarah, this is not a vacation.” Reminded Alfred, pointing to his map. “We’re still on our mission! This address is told to be 4 kilometers from here!”

Sarah rolled her eyes and snatched the map from her partner. She fliped on the paper as she spoke, “4 kilometers or 4 miles, they’re nothing to us now, remember? We can get there in a blink of an eye. Meanwhile, this city is just like my dream!” Exclaimed the young girl. “I’ve never been to anywhere outside the village. So many things I want to learn, so many places I want to explore! Everything looks just new and flashy! So please, let’s take a look around before we rest? I’ll be quick. And stop bringing out this draft thing, you’re making us look like tourists!”

“Because we are!” Protested Alfred, yanking back his map and folded it neatly. “Besides, we haven’t heard anything from the others. They must be worried as well, we can’t use up more time! We don’t even know if they’ve arrived the shelter safe and sound or not.”

“But…”

“Sarah, please. You’re not even good at German, yet.”

“Oh… Alright.” Sarah came to a halt. “You’re right… I was so excited I forgot everything. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just stay close, won’t you? I won’t know what to do if we’re seperated.”

Sarah nodded and tilted her head, looking down at her belongings, “Talking about the devil, I guess I have to agree with you now. There’s not enough money in my purse for a proper hotel.”

“Then let’s go, shall we? We can go on a trip later if you like.” Promised Alfred. Sarah was quick to beam:

“It’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

By a little past eight, which meant, approximately two hours later, the young duo turned up at the house where their given address indicated. It was a giant Victorian mansion, though through Alfred’s observe it had to be in the last years of the era, painted in dark colours, an opulent house that they both had to gawk up, all of which brought Alfred a soothing feel as it reminded him of the castle.

The gentle face of Herbert knew and welcomed them before the duo could come to make a proper introduction, the viscount was subjected to no stage of delay, but ushered them both direct from the door to the parlor where Anze sat petting Lilith. The collie pup puffed her nose as she smelled strangers, in a blink of an eye she jumped off her owner’s arms and rushed outside, barking loudly, but Herbert lifted Alfred up in the air before the dog had the chance to bite him, while Sarah, a former peasant as she was, wasn’t bothered one bit at the sight of the animal. In his cherish moment Herbert spun Alfred around:

“Alfred!” Beamed the young man, finally put his beloved down and showered him with smooches. “Mon chéri! You’re here at last!”

“Yes, I’m here. Calm down, Herbert!” Giggled Alfred at the tickles Herbert gave him, pushing him away. “And you’re back to normal!” He noticed.

“Yes I am!” Grinned the other man, leaning close to place a final kiss on the side of Alfred’s head. Alfred went on:

“How did you…” He tended to ask, but stopped by a tight embrace Herbert gave him. The viscount purred:

“It doesn’t matter now. You’re here, I was worried something might happen.”

“Easy, Herbert, let the boy breathe.” Laughed out Anze softly, as he helped Sarah put her hat and coat on the hanger. Lilith was still barking at their feet, but snuffed out like a candle at the warning chuckles Anze gave. Alfred brushed his fabric nicely back and asked:

“Where’re the rest of us?”

“I’m afraid they’ve been out hunting.” Replied Anze, leading them to sit by the fire, cosy and warm. Alfred thought he was purring as he sank into the plush cushion of the armchair, because days sitting on the hard bench of the train had made his bottom go numb and even a little sore. Anze asked, “Do you need a drink?”

“Yes, please.” Chattered Sarah as she wiggled playfully in her seat, swinging her feet like a happy child. “I’m pretty hungry by now.”

“Babies always want to eat.” Chuckled Herbert fondly, he patted Sarah’s head and ruffled her hair as though he was bestowing a favour. He turned to Alfred, “How about you, love? Care to have some refreshment, too?”

“If you have something vegetarian, then yes, please.” Murmured Alfred, enjoying himself by the fire. Herbert only giggled and headed to the kitchen, minutes later brought out two glasses filled with red “wine”. The young duo relished in their dinner, Sarah even flicked her tongue upon her fangs after she’d drained her glass, her face blushed with satisfaction.

“When will they return?” Sarah sounded restless, sitting straight up. Anze asked from the long sofa next to her:

“Who?”

“The count and Ludwig, of course.”

“Ah…” He scratched his chin. “I don’t know, to be honest. They didn’t tell me, and I believe our old man is taking his time having some sort of personal talk with Ludwig.”

“Personal talk?” Questioned Herbert. “Is there something I should know?”

“Ludwig was a little depressed by the time he reached here.” Explained Anze. “He needs to talk his feelings out, that’s all I know.”

“I didn’t know he was sad.” Muttered Herbert, quite surprised.

“The boy has been hiding it all. Poor little thing.”

“Who called me little?”

Deep gravelled voice rang from the main door just as Anze finished his sentence. There, standing at the entrance, was Ludwig, quickly taking off his shoes. The count followed after him when he strode to the middle of the living room, at sight of Sarah and Alfred, Ludwig cocked a brow as he greeted them:

“Seems that you two made it here safe and sound. Even though after I told you to stay put at home.” He glared.

“We have back cover.” For once Alfred mischievously grinned, and they all could see it was Herbert’s bad influence. Ludwig snorted:

“Yeah, I know, you little shit.”

“Ludwig, what did I tell you about language?” The count cleared his throat, instinctively the young man brought his hands up to cover his ears:

“Fine, fine, sorry!”

The count set eyes on his two youngest fledglings, “I remember telling you to keep our problem a secret.” He crooned. Alfred sank deeper into his seat:

“I’m sorry, we were just worried for you.”

“Apology accepted.” The man, to Alfred’s relief, smiled and came to join them by the cracking fire. He went on, “Did you two handle the trip alone?”

“Well, we…um…” Stammered Alfred, before he was cut off by Sarah:

“Alfred set the plan and I helped us find food.” She beamed brightly. “We have wonderful way of working together. Like Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer!”

“Glad to have such well-read, clever children.” Praised the count. Anze leaned closer to the other man and whispered:

“Who are Mungo and Rumple?”

“They’re just two cats.” Replied the count briefly.

Anze pretended to understand before he withdrew.

“So…” Started Herbert. “Since we’re all here, and I’m back to normal, obviously, what are we going to do next?”

“Let’s just go home.” Ludwig spoke with a drawl. The count bat his hand immediately:

“Save the joke for later, Ludwig. We all acknowledge that Asmodeus is still somewhere out there, and I doubt he would stop until he found a way to revenge or take you back.”

“I know.” Muttered Ludwig. “Just wanted to lit the atmosphere up.”

“Easy, Johannes, we still haven’t known where that guy is, and he doesn’t know this place, either. No fret.” Anze put a hand on the count’s shoulder. The man still tensed:

“I’m not fretting.” Protested the count. “But we need to focus, we need a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” Asked Herbert. “Strike him first before he strikes us again?”

“Basically, yes.” Agreed the count. “Then I’ll take him to court. After what he’s done to Ludwig, Herbert, and even me…” He gritted. “Several decades in the Abyss will serve him right.”

“Do we have proof of any kind?” Piped in Alfred. The count nodded:

“I’ve collected more than enough, they’re all in my drawer in the business room, and even more at the castle.”

“Oh, about that…” Ludwig raised his voice, then mumbled, “I brought your papers from back home with me. I still keep them in my suitcase. Just in case…” He shrugged.

“That’s unexpectedly, conveniently good.” Returned the count.

“Then what do we do now?” Asked Herbert again.

“We take him down. There’s no chance Asmodeus will agree to compromise and go to trial. Even if he does, there’ll be tricks and traps everywhere.”

“So we’re going to immobolizing him and drag him to court?”

“Basically that’s the plan.”

“Then we need to find his weaknesses.” Commented Anze. “Can’t let any of us get wretched again.”

“I intended to spy on him when I got here.” Spoke Ludwig. “But I found this butterfly boy instead.” He pointed to Herbert. The other young man raised his voice:

“Hey!”

“Stop pricking on your brother.” Warned the count.

“We found a shelter of him at the end of an abandoned street from the west side, but it seems that he’d moved.” Told Anze. “He has another house in the Old Town of Spandau, but he rarely lives there, told to have irregular habits.”

“He once dwelled at an old factory when I was with him.” Returned Ludwig with a shudder. “But that place was gotten back from the government and renovated years ago.”

“What a dead end.” Herbert rolled his eyes.

“Then let’s brace ourselves first, shall we?” For the first time, Sarah spoke up. “I mean, at this moment we know nothing about his dwelling. So why not prepare our strategies, or weapons, sort of? If we do so, then either when we find his place or he finds us first… we can still defend ourselves.”

Ludwig continued, “Then the question is, what is his weakness?”

“You told me he had poor eyesight like a real snake.” Returned Anze. Ludwig nodded.

“Indeed. He can’t see clearly anything beyond a 50m-long pool. Thus I suggest long range weapons when confront him. A crossbow, or a gun would do. I have a crossbow already, but my arrows are not hard enough to pierce through his scales.”

“He’s really a snake?” Sarah widened her eyes.

“He has a human form, but even though, he always wears a piece of armour under his tunic to cover his heart. That man is not foolish at all.”

“We should go for the head.” Returned Sarah, quite confidently. “Experience of the folks, if you want to beat a snake, you hit it right on its head.”

“That would require us to go near him, which I don’t recommend at all.” Objected the count.

“I want him to burn.” Ludwig gritted through his teeth. “I went to the apothecary a few days earlier…” He went on telling, “to find some snake repellent, also to check out if there was anything else could help me defend against him.”

“Did you find anything helpful?” Asked the count. Nodded Ludwig:

“Encountered this powder called realgar. The apothecary told me it could be used as an ultimate snake repellent in emergency, let’s say reptiles despite its smell just as much as we detest garlics. But I don’t know how to use it… not yet. To be honest, I want to take the most advantages from that powder to make him suffer, not just spraying it around as a mere simple shield.”

Alfred went after him, “You can burn him with it.”

“Burn him with what?”

“Realgar powder, of course.” Repeated Alfred. “It can burn drastically in the powder form. You can use it to create a fire ball and shoot him. Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Mon chéri, aren’t you a chemistry genuis?” Murmured Herbert and bashed his eyelids. Alfred felt he wanted to blush.

“No, I can’t use it. It’s a restrained material.” Waved off Ludwig. “I heard the apothecary explain it once, but they refused to sell me any unless I had a license.”

“If that’s the case, I can help you.” Piped in Anze.

“How come?” Asked Ludwig, expectantly.

“I have an acquaintance who’s in charge of the chemical market. There’s a chance we can purchase some on behalf of me.” Explained Anze. “If he’s generous enough.” Added he.

“And where’s this acquaintance of yours?” Asked the count.

“By this time of the year he always dwells in his private home in East Kreuzberg.”

“Then I’ll go. Just give me the address.” Nodded the count, about to rise to his feet. Anze was taken aback:

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Why so soon?”

“The sooner the better. If this plan of getting realgar powder failed, then we would know we needed to establish another plan.”

“Easy, Johannes.” Anze laughed softly, patting the other man’s arm. “That man is not going anywhere soon. It’s already late by now. It would be considered rude to disturb a human at this time of night and sabotage his hospitality.”

“Is that so? What time is it?”

“A quarter past nine already.” Herbert glanced at the giant clock by the wall. The count chuckled:

“Tomorrow evening, then. Do I need to make an appointment in order to meet your friend?”

“No need, I’ll just give him a call.”

“Good.”

“So… What do we do now?” For the third time, Herbert asked. His father rose up and waved his hand:

“Do whatever you please, I’m heading to my study.”

“Wait.” Blurted out Sarah.

“What’s the matter?”

“We need to ask you something. Well… actually, Alfred needs to ask you for help. He’s been seeing things.”

“Seeing things?” The count turned sharply. “My boy, what happened?”

“It’s weird, I think.” Alfred scratched his head. “Sometimes my vision just become distorted and everything looks like it’s painted in red, and I see people who are not really there. It occurred for some minutes, then back to normal.”

The count frowned, “That’s pretty odd for a fledgling.” He mumbled. “Meet me in the study, will you? We’ll discuss it.”


	32. Incident of the Krolocks’ children

Ludwig steadied himself in the car Anze lent him. His hands grabbed firmly at the stirring wheel, his veins pumped hard with adrenaline as the engine started. The young man grinned wide, somehow bothered Herbert who was sitting in the passenger seat.

“Seriously, Ludwig, it’s you who makes me feel insecured about this drive.”

Herbert muttered, fastening his seat belt. His brother waved off:

“Don’t be a chicken, Herbie, this’s not the first time I’ve driven a car.”

“It’s because I’ve seen you drive that’s why I’m scared!” Exclaimed Herbert, wringing out his hands. “Remember the jeep back in army?”

“I was green back then.” Reasoned Ludwig. “But did you die?”

“You flung us off a damn cliff!”

“Tut-tut! Language, Herbert.” Mocked Ludwig, followed with a sneer. Herbert just wanted to punch that grin off that bastard’s face. He bit back:

“I rarely curse. You do it all the time.”

“That’s not an adequate reason.”

“Of course it is.”

“No, it’s not. Cursing is cursing. I’ll just tell father.”

“Ludwig, you bastard!”

“Ah ah ah, you’re cursing again.”

Sarah and Alfred appeared and joined them in the back seat when the brothers’ pricking on each other began to grow hotter, just right on time, as Herbert gaily said. He had promised his young siblings a make over, and a trip around the city sounded nice as well. “Good evening.” The duo greeted.

“Good evening.” Beamed back Herbert, seemed to be quite proud of the outfit he chose for Alfred some time ago. Ludwig only sniffed:

“Guess it’s supposed to be a good evening even though I want it to be or not.”

“Ludwig, you’re always being sour.” Slurred Sarah, pinning back her hair. The man only shifted a bit at the comment, no more words uttered from him. Herbert turned to Alfred and asked:

“What did father discuss with you last night? I’m sorry I should’ve asked about your well-beings earlier but you seemed pretty exhausted.”

“It’s fine, Herbert, we just talked about my vision.” Returned Alfred with a sigh. “But I’m not sure if I quite get the hang of it.”

“How so?”

“Remember a couple of years ago when I told you my night vision didn’t work very well and everything looked like there were light bulbs turning off and on?”

“I’m remembering it pretty vaguely…” Hummed Herbert, rubbing his temples. “Was it that night when Ludwig made you find his chess pawns under the bed?”

“That night was a disaster. Quite surprised that you don’t recall it, Herbert.” Piped in Ludwig. His brother gave him a pinch on the arm.

“It’s returning to me now, alright, meanie?”

“Fine, butterfly boy.”

Alfred went on, “That was the very first symptom I got.” He paused for a second. “Sorry, actually it’s sort of a sign, since this is more of an ability than an illness, as I’ve now known. Father… He told me that my eyes can see the spiritual world. Sort of.”

“Impressive! That’s new.” Praised Herbert, wide eyed. “Even though we’re in the middle of the living and dead, I’ve never seen or heard any cases about seeing spirits.” He commented.

“Because those cases are rare.” Piped in Ludwig again, his tone as though stating a fact, when he carefreely taking out a coffee candy and popped it into his mouth. “Wish I knew about your condition earlier, lad. My bad. I knew a man who had that vision as well, and now I want to have his head.”

“Asmodeus?” Blinked Herbert in surprise.

“That vile can even travel between our world and that one.” Scolded Ludwig, clenching his jaw as he kept on chewing. “Interact with spirits. More like demons, since they’re not ghosts of any human at all. The realm Alfred saw, remind me, it’s painted in red, isn’t it?”

Alfred nodded. Ludwig went on, speaking from his shoulder:

“Then that’s it. A world parallel to our own. The Void.”

“Is there any chance I can find my mother there?” Pondered Herbert. Ludwig immediately snapped him:

“I just told you it’s not a world for human spirits! Of course you can’t find her there. Good thing, though. I don’t think that place is anywhere near pleasant.”

“It looks terrible.” Chuckled Alfred, couldn’t agree more. “Father taught me how to handle this ability. But I guess I still need more time to practice.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, love, you’re doing well already.” Smiled Herbert. Alfred blushed:

“Thank you.”

“Now we’re done pampering the little lad, can we start now?” Ludwig rolled his eyes, before spitting the tasteless waste of his candy into the bin. “I’m really itching to drive this monster through the streets.”

Herbert grimaced and whined, “That’s disgusting.”

Ludwig only barked a laugh. He eventually started his car, and they slowly headed down the bustling roads of Berlin in the evening. Sarah couldn’t help herself:

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping, of course.” Herbert crinkled his eyes. “Can’t have you two wearing these old clothes all the times.”

“We can sightsee this way, too.” Agreed Alfred. Ludwig could do nothing but chuckle:

“And somehow I become your private driver.”

“This… is amazing!” Yelled out Sarah in her pure excitement, swinging her red locks as she swayed her head from side to side, and she chattered like a nightingale. The men could only laughed. It was her first time travelling by car, after all.

As the car drew up at a stoplight, Ludwig was alarmed by another cab next to him. He turned down his window and glared. From the corner of his good eye, appeared the sight of a ridiculously bright red Alfa Romeo, buzzing like a mad horse ready for war. Ludwig fully turned his head to get a better view. The owner of the red car acknowleged him with a brief nod and a grin which was too wide not to be challenging, shining in his mouth a golden tooth, he lowered his glasses and winked at Ludwig, at the same time moved his car an inch further.

The young Krolock returned with his best baring teeth grin. He cocked his brow, and moved his Bentley forwards as though to say, “Challenge accepted”. Herbert was the first one to notice what was happening, as he cast his brother a warning stare, the viscount muttered:

“Ludwig, please no.”

Ludwig just madly smiled back, “Ludwig yes.”

“There’re four of us in this car, Ludwig. Please, it’s not worth it.”

The other man only grasped tighter his stirring wheel, “Somebody gotta teach this arrogant bloke a lesson for daring a Krolock.”

With that the stoplight turned green, and the rest of them almost fell out of their seats as Ludwig pushed hard on his pedal and drove madly as if there was nothing to be seen on the streets but lamplights. Herbert yelled:

“Ludwig, you can’t do 90 miles per hour in Central Berlin!” He panted and grasped on his chair. Meanwhile, Alfred thought he’d rather jump out on the pavement.

“Why not?” Shrugged Ludwig, carelessly letting go of the steering wheel. Herbert begged:

“Stop this foolish race and focus on the roads, please!”

“Oh no, that bloke is rushing ahead.” Gritted Ludwig at sight of the middle finger he received, and the young man sped up his engine. The whole car tilted as it dodged through the traffic. Herbert had to scream again:

“Watch out for that pedestrian!”

“She’s on the streets, she should be aware of the risks she’s taking!”

“For Satan’s sake, Ludwig, please stop!”

Herbert cried out and tried to take over the driving. With great force Ludwig pinned his brother down, with only one hand he drove them past the bustling traffic and bumped against his rival. It was quite a violent impact on the side, resulting in the red car losing its balance and it spun, before crashed into a nearby water pump. Ludwig drove off with a savage laugh.

“Ludwig, what’s got into your mind?” Herbert regained his calm when their car had finally slowed down a distance away, lazily strolling. He groaned.

“That’s what I call a good drive.”

“No, not good at all.” Mumbled Alfred, leaning against the window with a devastated face. If he was still human he would have vomitted. “Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man.”

“You guys are no fun.” Pouted Ludwig. Herbert snapped:

“How could anyone in sober mind find it fun?”

But Sarah pranced upon his chair and gasped for air:

“You have to be kidding! That was incredible!”

Ludwig grinned the Cheshire grin, “See?”

From that time forward, they experienced quite a peaceful drive, which was a relief to Herbert and Alfred, but a boring distaste to the other two. Ludwig parked in a public lot when Herbert announced they’d arrived at the shopping centre, the younger man followed the other three, observing closely, as though he was their bodyguard. In fact, none of them needed protecting among the humans, especially after dusk, but Ludwig just shrugged and reminded himself that they needed someone to make sure Herbert didn’t create any stupid pranks.

Things happened when they set forth in direction of a narrow street. Herbert and Ludwig had intended to prevent them, since the shops looked quite shady in their eyes when locating in a dingy neighborhood, but Sarah had noticed a very pretty dress from afar and none of them would love to see her sulk. Alfred pulled his coat tighter and rubbed his hands in clear nervousity, darting his eyes around. He could feel his heart lump to his throat when they encountered some strangers.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

A thick voice greeted them under the flickered lamplight. It belonged to a giant man at the same height with Herbert, but bulky, muscular, at the age of around 40, peering down at the Krolock’s children as though they were nothing but mice and rats. Accompanied him were two more people, a teenager with hair dyed in bright neon colours, and a lanky tall man whose head was so big it looked out of proportion. The muscular man puffed on his cheap cigarette and sneered, “Looks like we’ve got a real bargain.” He sounded pleased, paying his attentive gaze especially upon Herbert. “Rich kids.”

His folks joined him in some kind of a savage laugh. Ludwig was grumbling inside his throat like a mad dog already, but Herbert decided to step forward before him. The viscount paid a genuine, friendly look. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’m afraid you’re standing in our way.” He spoke.

The stranger replied mockingly, lighting up another cigarette, “Why?” He asked.

“Why?” Herbert tilted his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Then let me explain it to you.” The man created a loud, disgusting sound of himself sniffing. “It should be us saying that line. You are the ones blocking our way.” He pointed to Herbert’s chest.

“Is that so?” Returned Herbert calmly, straightened up himself and brushed his coat nicely back as he stared at the men. “My, my, then this’s such an improper action of us. We apology, and may you excuse us to head on.”

“Oh, not so fast.” The men besieged them when their leader raised a hand, as quickly as how Ludwig was losing his patience. They tutted, “This is our neighborhood. Intruders pay a fee.”

“We didn’t mean to intrude.” Spoke Alfred, who soon cringed when the tall man gritted at him with a nasal voice:

“Who allowed you to speak, anyway, louse?”

“He was only telling the truth.” Spoke up Sarah, reassuringly squeezing Alfred’s wrist. The boy with dyed hair approached her and jeered, even so bold to caress her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I say, he was only telling the truth.” Sarah’s voice was heavy with her accent. The dyed-hair lad’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, big boss, this is really a bargain.” Crooned he, aiming at the young girl as if he was bestowing a pet. “Aren’t you a lovely lady?”

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Snarled Ludwig, but the boy only paid him a daring look.

“Don’t touch me.” Sarah’s face twisted as well. The boy didn’t oblige, but even slid his fingers into the curly hair cascading her face and brushed. From the corner of her eyes, she could notice a faint tattoo of a flipped Swastika upon his freckled skin.

“Look at these pretty, ginger locks of yours. You have quite a special hairstyle, don’t you know that?” He murmured amusingly. “Aren’t you happened to be a Jewish?”

“Then what?” The young girl snarled.

“A Jewish rat, that is!” Scoffed the strangers. They all laughed, “This is going to be much more fun!”

With that the dyed-haired boy lurched forward with an intention to grab at Sarah. But the girl dodged, and in front of their amazed eyes, she hauled the boy over her shoulders and slammed him against the other men. They all collasped on the snowy ground. Not letting any of them have a single chance to strike back, Sarah, eyes now glowed red and her fangs bared, leaped and launched herself at them. She brandished her claws and attacked. From that time forward, only the men’s screams in agony could be heard in the dead of night.

“Should we be aware of the still-opened-shops?” Whispered Alfred, quite concerning. Herbert waved his hand:

“No. I’ll take care of them.” He ended with a snap of his fingers, and an invisible shield surrounded them. Ludwig chuckled:

“Not bad.”

“Isn’t she a lovely sister?” Praised Herbert, as he stood with the other men, stepping a few steps back, watching Sarah tear the flesh of her enemies’s throats apart. He relished in the fresh smell of blood lingered in the air.

“This sight is ravishing.” Admitted Ludwig, focusing on the guts and gore. When all was set and all was done, Sarah returned to them with blood smeared all over her face, but it took her brothers no long time to wipe them off. She grinned, beckoning at the throbbing corspes:

“I made you dinner.”


	33. Anze Afanas is not at ease

“Seriously, Johannes, you don’t need to exhaust yourself to come with me.”

Anze said for the hundredth time the count could remember when they had settled in their car. The older man swallowed hard as he glanced at his partner, expectantly waiting for an answer. The count just sighed:

“Alright, Anze, then you don’t want me here, do you?”

“What?” Stammered the other man, quite profusely as he apologied, “N-No! I didn’t mean that!”

“Then what?” The count still sounded calm, but he crossed his arms as he turned to face Anze from the passenger seat. “You’ve been telling me this since afternoon.”

“I… I just…” Babbled Anze, not daring to look straight at the count’s scrutinizing gaze. He uttered, “I’m just afraid that I’ll bother you with this trip. I’m able to go alone, you don’t have to… You just stay home and rest.”

“Rest from what? I’ve not been doing anything.”

“Well, I… Just saying.” He carelessly shrugged. The count cleared his voice:

“Anze.”

“Forget it.”

“Anze, tell me.” Demanded the count. “Please?”

“…”

Anze Afanas was a person who could be moved easily. He finally surrendered after a second, and sighed, “Fine…” His word trailed into an extravagant whine. “I’m just afraid, alright? Overthinking… Anxiety…” He somehow sulked. At that sight the count couldn’t repress a soft laugh and he eased his tone:

“You just don’t want me to see your friend, do you?”

“That’s not a friend, only a mere business acquaintance.” Corrected Anze.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Well, yes… but actually, no?” Mumbled the older man. “I just don’t know, Johannes. It feels so weird.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Anze, a bit reluctantly, nodded and closed his eyes, humming agreement deep in his throat and slammed his forehead down upon the steering wheel. The count’s eyes softened. He gently seized Anze’s hand and squeezed. “It’s fine, Anze, everything is going to be fine. You’re not bothering me one bit. I only want to go with you.”

The count’s fingers rubbed gently on the back of Anze’s hand. Tension hadn’t left the older man’s shoulders, but at least, he turned his face to look at the count, and with a husky voice, he asked, “Really?”

“Really.” Assured the count. Anze bashed his eyelashes:

“How many percent are you certain?”

The count chortled, “One hundred.”

“Good.” Whispered Anze, finally decided to sit straight back. He fumbled through his keys with shaky hands and mumbled, “You know, I called him last night to inform about this meeting.”

“He agreed.” Stated the count.

“Yes, but… I’m a little anxious.”

“And why of that? You don’t like being around him?”

“I’m not worrying about me.” Uttered Anze. “I’m worrying about you.”

“What about me?” Frowned the other man.

“Well, that guy is pretty peculiar… bold as brass. Not a compliment, though.”

“And you’re feeling wobbly because of that?”

“Sort of. Can’t predict what’s going to be on his mind.”

“But you’ve been working with him. I suppose he’s reliable enough to be recommended by you.”

“That’s true, but all those times I could only know what he thought of me. How can I know what he’s going to think of you?”

“Easy, Anze.” Assured the count. “He’s a human. A human’s mind is predictable.”

“Oh?”

“And I’m not any inexperienced youngster, either. I can make sure with you that everything will work out just fine.”

“Oh… If you say so… Then I can set my mind at peace.”

“You may.” Smiled the count. “Now, let’s drive before we’re late, shall we?”

Their car quickly set off to East Kreuzberg and pulled over in front of a giant mansion. It located in a deserted area, where no one could be seen but the two men in the black Bentley, as though the man Anze mentioned was the owner of the whole neighborhood. A guard led them out of the parking lot to the front door, and a solemn butler showed them the parlor where the master of the house was sitting alone over his wine. This was a stout, short, red-faced gentleman, with a shock of hair prematurely white, and a boisterous, decided manner. At sight of his guests, the man sprang up from his chair and greeted them with both hands.

“Mr. Afanas!” Greeted he, his tenor voice heavy with an accent. “You’re here at last! And I see you’ve brought a lovely face!” He grinned as acknowledgement of the presence of Count von Krolock. Anze shuddered, but offered his hand for a friendly handshake. The man returned it with genuine hospitality, then turned to offered his own hand to the count. He introduced:

“Sir Crevan Demir, pleasure to meet you.”

The count immediately seized Crevan’s hand, which soon let him yelp due to the coldness of his skin, and firmly said, “Von Krolock.”

“Oh, a German gentleman!” Crevan beamed brightly, as he led his guests to sit with him by the fire. “What a wonderful chance!” Chattered he continously like a parrot, mostly to himself, “An international meeting! Three men from three countries! Fascinating, indeed!”

Count von Krolock laughed off quietly, while Anze only rolled his eyes.

“I suppose, Sir Demir,” said the count when they had all settled down, his face painted with amusement, “that you’re from Istanbul?”

“And thanks to what evidences do you believe so?” Crevan took a sip of his wine. The count pointed to the miniatures placed on top of a cabinet.

“That’s quite an enormous collection of Istanbul symbols.”

“I see a good point that you have there.” Chuckled Crevan approvingly. “Yes, I’m from Istanbul, Turkey.” He proudly said. “You should pay it a visit some day, Mr. von Krolock, it’s a great place. Very festive.”

“I’ll do.” Nodded the count, carrying off their conversation gaily. Crevan offered refreshments to his guests:

“Drinks? Cookies?”

“Many thanks for your service. A toast.” Returned the count, taking a glass of wine. Anze scoffed:

“A toast…”

Count von Krolock sipped slowly on his drink, but Anze drained his glass in just one gulf with a subtle offending look.

“But by the way…” Pondered the count, “if you don’t find my curiosity offensive, I believe that although you’re Turkish, you’re not a Muslim, are you?”

“And what makes you think so?” Crevan raised his brow, his eyes glittered. The count pointed out:

“You drink alcohol.”

“You’re an excellent observer, aren’t you?” Crevan sounded beyond pleased, a mixture of amusement and excitement, and he smacked on his own thighs as he laughed, “Mr. Afanas, your friend here is indeed a man of culture! I love him already!”

Anze just faked a smile and muttered under his breath.

_No, you fucking don’t._

After a few ramblings, Anze led up to the subject which so disagreeably preoccupied his mind.

“Sir Demir,” said he, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “I suppose that we’ve been acquaintances for not a short time, yes?”

“I suppose so.” Returned Crevan. “But what of that? Ah… Is it about the problem you confided in me via the telephone last night?”

“I’m afraid so.” Chuckled Anze. “What’s your answer?”

“That’s not a big deal, Mr. Afanas,” Returned the other man, “but you see, the material you’re looking for is restricted, which a fine gentleman like you probably have known.” He hummed and hawwed.

“And your point is?”

“You need a license.” Shrugged Crevan. Anze snorted:

“Oh, please, sir, if we had a license, we could have purchased it at the apothecary ages ago, there would be no need to ask for your help. Can you on behalf of our friendship and lend a hand?”

“But oh, I can’t risk my whole business because of you, Mr. Afanas. We’re friends, that’s true, but you owe me nothing, and I owe you none. I have no responsibility. No offend, though.”

“A license will require much time, probably taking up to weeks or even a month.” Spoke up the count. “And we don’t have much of it. Is there any chance we could purchase that powder in advance?”

“I see your reason there.” Crevan’s eyes fixed on the count. “But as I just told, I can’t bet my career with the government if they found out you used it without permission. What are you going to do with that powder?”

“Personal chemistry project.” Replied Anze briefly. The host flicked his tongue:

“I’m afraid that’s not an appropriate reason if we happen to oblige to write a report. The price is high.”

“Then name your price.” The count’s tone was firm. “I’ll pay.”

“At any cost? You sound quite certain of yourself.” Asked Crevan, slurring. The count boldly confirmed:

“Any cost.”

“Mr. von Krolock, I suppose,” Continued Crevan, languidly tapping on his bearded chin, “that you’re brand new in the business around here, for I know every single face of every big man in Germany.”

“It’s true that I’m not from anywhere near this place, but if it makes you more secured, I’ll say Mr. Afanas has already educated me with what I should know.” Returned the count. Crevan smirked:

“Then I believe you’re well aware of how we work here as well, yes? I do hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. Would you rather think twice?”

“I’m not a fool, Sir Demir, and not anyone with dignitary you should worry about, either, so no need to ramble anymore. If what you’re preparing for me is called playing dirty, I won’t hesitate to play along. I can make it worth your while if you can, for reals, lend a hand.”

“Are you thinking about bribing me?” Crevan’s voice lowered to an amusing purr. The count only crossed his arms:

“I’d rather say it’s a little tip.”

“Interesting. But I don’t think any of you would approve my price.” Crevan’s hospitality turned into cockiness. The count chuckled:

“Then there is a price, after all. You told us this was no big deal. So name it. Name your price.”

“Time.” Grinned Crevan, eventually. The count tilted his head:

“Time?”

“I’ll just set a deal for you two.” Crevan took another sip from his wine. “Spare a little of your precious time for me. Tomorrow night, at this hour, join me for dinner. But only Mr. von Krolock is invited.” He stressed on the last sentence. Anze’s face burnt at once and he almost roared:

“You’re out of your mind, Demir, you’re drunk!”

“Let him finish, Anze.” The count stopped him. “Let’s see what our friend’s got to offer.”

“That’s the spirit.” Crevan raised his glass. “I’d love to discuss further about this problem with him. Relax, dear Afanas. Only a dinner. No lost, only granting, I guarantee.”

“You can discuss with me, Demir, I know you more than he does.” Protested Anze. Crevan just tutted and shook his head:

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. Mr. von Krolock has shown himself to be more of a sensible bargainer than you. No offend again.”

“Let’s go, Johannes.” Anze rose to his feet and tucked his partner’s up along. “I know what he’s planning, we’re getting on another way. Goodbye, sir, and have a good night.”

Crevan kept telling, smiling farewell at his departing guests, “I’ll still wait here tomorrow. If our meeting went well, then… I might offer even more than what you seeked.”

The man’s voice faded and soon disappeared behind the slammed door. The meeting ended up being a disaster, that was the amount of information Anze would carry back with him to the great, dark bed on which later he would toss to and fro, while toiling his own mind with guilt for ever mentioning seeking this Crevan Demir for help. For now, he pulled the count into their car after him and drove quickly out of the mansion, his shoulders squared and his face twisted with knitted brows. For the first time he recklessly drove down the street in complete silence.

“Anze, can you stop and listen to me for a moment?” Sighed the count, but Anze didn’t listen. Only a grumble uttered from him, and the older man kept rushing ahead as if that was the least thing he could do. The count repeated, “Anze Afanas, stop driving like this or you’ll give us trouble!”

The car took a sharp turn into a dark alley and stopped abruptly with a deafening screetch. Anze was scolding again, and he clenched his jaw when the count called him, “Anze…”

The older man didn’t move. He inhaled deeply. Still staring at the void ahead, he lowered his voice, “That’s why I don’t want you to meet him.”

“You need not to worry about me, I know what I’m doing.”

“How can I?” He trembled and turned sharply, his eyes desperately wide, “When he kept observing you up and down like that? In front of me?”

“You must be seeing things, he was just being friendly.”

“I knew what I saw, Johannes!” Anze’s voice melted into a whine. “I should have known him better. He… he was trying to hook you up…”

With that the man whimpered in his throat like a puppy and allowed himself to fall upon the steering wheel. It grew suffocating around him, he looked afar and mourned like a lost sheep.

To his surprise, the count threw himself into a laughing fit.

“What’s so funny?” Anze sulkily gawked up. The count was still shaking from laughters, he shook his head:

“You look really adorable when you’re jealous, don’t you know?”

“What?” Exclaimed Anze. “I’m… I’m not jealous! Not ever!”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.” Pouted the other man.

“You’re mad because your friend wants to meet me.”

“He wants to meet you in private.” Hissed Anze. “That hits differently!”

The count rested his chin upon his hand, leaning forwards. “But I haven’t said if I accepted his invitation or not.”

“Of course you haven’t… wait, oh?”

“Admit it, Anze, you sure have jealousy in your blood.”

Anze averted his eyes. “You’re terribly wrong. I’m a man of solid self-control, I tell you.”

The glance he gave the count was quick. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the count’s gaze still aimed at him, a brow raised higher than the other. That look made him swallowed dry. He muttered under his breath, “Or not.”

“I’m not allowing him to do anything to me. My words on that.” Assured the younger man. Anze whimpered:

“You’re still going?”

“That’s part of the plan.” Cooly enough, the count explained. “I’ll let him have what he demands first. It’ll be easier to manipulate his mind later.”

“Oh… I see.” Returned Anze, meekly. “What are you going to do?”

“Smuggle some information and chemicals, of course.”

“You certain? Are you… are you going to be alright? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he did anything to you.”

“You say as if I’m a little hare, though Demir does reflect much of a fox.” The count crinkled his eyes. “Don’t strain yourself, baby doll, this old man knows how to handle. I’ll be fine.” He ended with a soft laugh vibrated from his throat, and he reassuringly cupped Anze’s face, giving his cheek a few gentle strokes. Anze’s pupils blown wide, he stuttered:

“What did you just say?”

The count was surprised. “I say I know what I’m doing.” He repeated.

“No, not that… The thing you said earlier.” Anze fidgetted with the hem of his coat. “What… What did you just call me?”

The count appeared to hesitate. “Baby doll?” He asked. But Anze didn’t answer, only froze in front of the other man’s eyes. “Anze? Anze… Anze, are you alright?”


	34. We have very different concepts about dinner

The evening finally rolled around where the count was supposed to meet with Crevan. It was another chilly night, fortunate enough with no more snow falling. Anze brought his partner’s hand to his lips for a tender kiss and said, “Please let me know if something bad happens.”

The count smiled faintly, but nonetheless, he nodded, “I will.”

“Are you sure about this?” Anze asked again.

“You can count on me.” The count winked. He soon left.

It was seven o’clock. Anze waited alone in his car outside the iron gate, as a result of his green-eye attitude he refused to park in the house parking area. The man shuddered. He attempted to shrug off the stress that had been weighing on his shoulders, yet could not help the anxiety which was still crawling under his skin. He thought he could have scratched.

“Stupid, stupid Anze! You’re an idiot!” He cursed to himself, as he kept knocking his head upon the steering wheel. “That’s a real dirty old man inside there, Anze, you should have stopped him…”

With that he whimpered out loud and tossed in his car. With all the worries burdening his chest, Anze breathed out a sigh, watching the thin smoke of air floating in front of his eyes.

Count von Krolock was instructed to enter the dining hall, where the host was sitting alone over his drink and expecting him. His boisterous manner was still excellent when he took note of the count, and he invited him to sit opposite him by the elegant square table. The host began:

“It’s a pleasure that you accepted my invitation.” The man poured some wine into a glass and offered it to his guest, which the count received gratefully. Crevan went on, “I was afraid that our hot tempered Afanas had convinced you otherwise.”

“I apology for his manner last night, Sir Demir,” returned the count, “but may you forgive him, he was simply overthinking way too much.”

“Isn’t that how he is sometimes?” Crevan smacked on his thigh as he laughed. “He’s a good friend, but there’re occasions he just gets me on my nerves. And please, lovely, you can call me Crevan.”

“I don’t think it’s very proper to address you so. You see, we only met yesterday.”

“You seem a little tense.” Commented Crevan, waving his hand at the count. “Relax, I just wanted our conversation to be carried off with ease.”

“I see.” Hummed the count, crossing his legs when he sat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A servant appeared from behind and prepared them both their napkins, and another one placed on the table two plates pungent with nice smell, lively in decoration. Crevan spoke when his servants had bid their exits:

“I hope our humble household be able to please your appetite.”

“You’re exaggerating… Crevan, this is beyond pleasant.” Smiled back the count. “Though I do hope you don’t mind, that I can’t consume solid food. I apology for forgetting to inform you earlier.”

Crevan widened his eyes, “I don’t mind at all. But why?”

“There’s this disease called the SMAS syndrome that’s been bothering me.” Sighed the count, pulling the lie as though it was the most natural thing ever. Crevan nodded as he gave a sympathetic look:

“I’ve heard of it. What a pity you have to experience such thing. How old are you?”

The count was taken aback by the unexpected question. But he hid his perplexity with ease and replied, much blankly, “Thirty five.”

“It must be torture to endure sickness at such young age.”

“You must be joking, dear sir, I’m not anywhere near young anymore.” Chuckled the count. Crevan only laughed:

“Trust me, compare to me and even our dear Afanas, you’re pretty young and fresh.” He carelessly slurred, his comment made the count want to squirm and snort. “Do you need anything? I’ll see if there’s something I can make do.”

“There’s no need.” Waved off the count, his tone firm and stoned. “I came here not to eat. You are well aware that there’s something else that I’m interested in more from this conversation.”

“Of course I understand. Serve yourself with the fine wine, then.” Nodded Crevan. “Do you mind me?” He pointed to his plate. The count shrugged:

“Not at all.”

“What do you think of our meeting so far?”

“I’m a bit surprised that, for a wealthy man like you, this dinner is given to only two people. I thought there would be a little more… crowded.”

“Oh!” Laughed off the other man, picking up his cutleries and began to wolf down quickly on his food. “Parties like that were all in my old days. Now I only give my dinners to my few old cronies. Besides, didn’t I mention that this is our private meeting after all?”

“I’m afraid you didn’t.” Chuckled the count.

“My, my, then I apology for disappointing you with this boring event. But as you think more thoroughly, isn’t it better when there’re only two of us when it comes to discussing things that are… well, you know what?”

“That makes sense. And I do hope you can help us with the problem we inquired of you earlier.”

“In fact, I can.” Stated Crevan, bringing out from a suitcase two little parcels. “The thing you’re seeking is in here, enough to create a mighty firework, I tell you…” He pointed to one pack. “And this one is my present.”

“What is it, if I may ask for instant?”

“Have you ever heard of Fegabit?”

“I believe you’re talking about that weed killer which has been restricted in recent years as well?”

“An educated man! Indeed!” Chattered Crevan. “This is one of my rare packs.”

“And why are you gifting me with such a scarce material? I didn’t expect the powder to be available so soon, either.” The count raised his brow. For some reason, the brightness never faded from Crevan’s face. He said:

“I own a chemical market, after all, and I believe as a person who’s interested in chemistry like you, you would love it. I just didn’t want our old friend Afanas to get what he wanted immediately, that could make him dependant on me in the future and bother me, as far as I concern.” He carelessly confided. “And didn’t I tell you that if our conversation went as I wished, then I might give you more than what you seeked?”

“By that you mean this meeting is going on well already?”

“It’s already over the moon to me the moment you accepted my invitation.” Winked Crevan, taking a large gulp from his wine. The count thought he might squirm again.

“That’s pretty flattering.” He joked. “How much is for the realgar powder, then? I’ll leave you a cheque. Or would you rather cash?”

“It’s free.” Answered Crevan briefly, dabbing his mouth clean. “I’m not going to charge you any single coin. But in return…” He fumbled through his pockets for a cigar. “I’ve been wanting to speak to you, ever since last night. Do you mind?”

“I believe there’s no lost in agreement.” Smirked the count, waving his hand as a gesture for Crevan to feel free to smoke. Crevan grinned wide:

“Brilliant!”

A close observer might have gathered that the conversation was distasteful to the count, but he carried it off gaily. “So, my dear Crevan,” said he, “you’re such a generous man, to devote so much to us like that. How can I keep you companied?”

Crevan stroke his mustache and puffed on his cigar, his face was painted a little blush after so many drinks he had consumed. He narrowed his eyes. “Have you been friends for long? You and Afanas?” He came to ask.

“For several years.” Replied the count. Crevan hummed:

“No wonders. The man seems to be very fond of you.”

“Is that so?” The count pretended to be surprised. Crevan nodded, purring:

“It’s not hard to understand, either.” His eyes never take off the other man. “You do have a luxury charm. We’ve known each other for some good few years as well and I can be certain with you that he can always find opportunities to talk good about you. Such a precious chance I got to see you with my naked eyes, it has shown that all of Afanas’ praises are all true-hearted. Are you aware of his taste in companionship?”

“I do.” Confirmed the count.

“And what is your opinion about it?”

“Honestly saying I’m no one to judge him.” Returned the count, well knew where the converstion was steering to. “Are you going tell me that he’s fond of me the romantic way?”

“Are you going to report him? Or me? Any of us?” Half jokingly, Crevan asked. The count assured:

“I’m not a snitch.”

“Good.” Crooned Crevan, a little tipsy. “Now I’m curious about what you would do if he confessed with you about his feelings.”

“It depends on the circumstance.” The count made a thinking face, deeply fascinated. “Probably give him a chance. He seems nice enough.” For once, he ended with a wink. He swore that Crevan’s face had turned brighter with red.

“If you have said so, my dear von Krolock… I’ll confide in you that it’s the sexuality which is one of the rare simliarities between Afanas and me.”

“Oh?” The count acted to be amused. Crevan puffed his cigar for the last time:

“And as I say, you do have an irresistable grace. Perhaps… perhaps I’m attracted to you the way he’s attracted to you, lovely.”

“Don’t use pet names with me, we’re not that close.” The count lowered his voice. Crevan only laughed off:

“My, my, maybe I’m too forthright with you, ain’t I? My sincere apology. But speaking again, that’ll be the reason for my offer now to come. I would like to invite you to stay the night. You said we were not close enough. Maybe if you accepted, I would have a chance to get to know you. And maybe…” Smirked he. “Maybe if things went well again, I might make it worth your while.”

The count sneered, “You’ve been using too many adverbs of misgiving. How can I feel safe when you’re not even certain with yourself?”

“Ah, you love to feel secured, do you?” Growled Crevan deep in his throat, slowly scraping his fingers upon the placemat. “Love to be held, I think? So let me promise you, then. If you agree to stay with me tonight… I’ll not only grant you these scarce materials, but also shower you with some souvenirs, all of which…” He paused for a few seconds and laughed to himself, “will help you remember me once you’ve left my bed.”

Crevan’s words were too imprudent not to make the count’s guts churn, and the man now fully understood why Anze had complained about Crevan being as bold as brass. The count, obviously offended at the shameless offer, gritted his teeth and glared, “Do I look like a prostitute?”

Crevan almost choked, but he remained his calm, “Oh, dear von Krolock, you’re getting me wrong. I was just expressing my hospitality, and obviously, answering your question for instant. You may turn my offer down if you want, but, as I guaranteed with you last night, it would be for the best if you pleased me.”

The count’s eyes glanced at the parcels on the table, and then fixed on the other man. Crevan was still eyeing him like a hungry fox, his nails were still scratching the table as though he would brandish them to grab at his prey at any moment. The count’s frown soon eased into a smile, which became rather brittle. For once he untangled his legs and stood up, lazily gliding around the table to stand next to Crevan. “Very well…” He crooned, staring down at the other man from his impressive height. Crevan flustered and his eyes began to become dreamy when he gawked up at his guest.

“My God, you’re gorgeous.” Crevan’s words slipped from his tongue. The count gave a wolfish smirk which was audible, and he bent down to look close at the other man. He purred:

“Don’t say it to God, he won’t hear anything at all. Say it to me.”

Crevan whimpered in his throat at sight of the man in front of him, and also under the sensation of somebody’s hands upon his shoulders and chest. “You’re gorgeous”. Repeated he, didn’t realize that the count’s cold hand had reached up to linger around his neck. The younger man seemed pleased, before his smile transformed into a crooked grin, baring his fangs and his eyes glowed red.

But Crevan Demir couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t remember anything at all.

Anze was still sulking alone in his car when he heard the sound of his door opened, and then came the shifting of the vehicle when somebody joined him. Wearily, he gawked up, immediately beamed brightly at the sight of the count smiling at him. He lurched forward, and pulled the count in a tight embrace.

“You’re back!” Exclaimed Anze, profusely roaming his hands over the other man to check on him. He asked, “Are you alright? Did he do anything to you?”

The count barked a contented laugh, “Easy, Anze, I’m perfectly fine!”

“R-Really?” Panted Anze. “You certain? No hiding?”

“Of course I am certain!” The count patted on Anze’s arm. The older man heaved a sigh and muttered:

“That’s so good to hear. I was just worrying…”

“You’re straining yourself.” Hushed the count. “I’m here. It’s alright.”

“Thank Hell for that.” Anze finally allowed his shoulders to slump. “What happened in there, actually?”

“Just some talking about nonsense.” Chuckled the count, disdainfully. “He and I have different concepts about dinner, I tell you.” He ended with a flick of his tongue, and Anze couldn’t hide his laugh at the sight of his still sharp fangs.

“Damn it, Johannes, you nailed him!”

“And I got these.” Declared the count, putting in front of Anze the two sealed parcels. The other man blinked.

“That’s quite a surplus of realgar powder.”

“No, there’s only one pack of realgar powder.” Explained the count. “The other is Fegabit.”

“Fegabit? What are we going to do with it? And how did you get it?”

“Your friend gifted me for no reason.” Shrugged the count. “I’ll ask Alfred if there’s anything we can do with it later.”

“That’s odd. He never gives away anything for free, let alone a whole pack of Fegabit.”

“I’ll say I have a convincing charm.” Smirked the younger man. Anze had to chuckle and blush:

“I can’t agree more.”

“I didn’t know you told people about me.” Continued the count, faintly smiling. Anze quickly yelped:

“What?”

“Your friend told me you kept mentioning me before him.”

“Oh…” Stammered Anze. “Well… yes, I, um… couldn’t help myself sometimes. I’ll stop, I promise.”

“No need, I’m just asking.” Assured the count. He sank in his chair and sniffed, “How old is that friend Crevan of yours, anyway?”

“Sixty – eight next year if I remember it right.”

“Oh… sweet Satan.” Cursed the count, as he laid his hand upon his coat and sought to shake himself. Anze concerned:

“What ever is the matter with that?”

“Anze…” Started the other man slowly. “However much I want to keep you at peace, I **can’t** not tell you this, now I’m aware of how old that man is.”

“Oh? What happened? Something’s wrong?”

“Your friend indeed has a kink for people at the age of his son.”

Anze’s eyes blown wide, “I knew it! He flirted with you, didn’t he?”

“He even offered to pay me to spend a night with him.” Gritted the count. Anze turned sharply:

“Did you accept it?”

The count faced him and raised his brow, “Anze Afanas. Look straight into my eyes and ask it again, I dare you.”

“Oh…” It was dawn on the other man. “Right… What a stupid question. Sorry.”

“That man is beyond shameless.” Shuddered the count. Anze made an attempt to lift the mood:

“But accurately speaking, he’s the one who’s at the age of your grandson, don’t you agree? Apparently he’s the one with the old man kink.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m stunted old?”

“Come on, Johannes, we’re both like his great-great-great grandfathers. If you’re stunted old, then I must be a mummy or something.”

“I was turned when I was thirty five, baby doll. I’m forever thirty five.”

“Then I’m forever fifty two.” Giggled Anze.

“Exactly.”

Anze’s eyes were dreamy when he leaned close and asked, “Can you call me with that pet name more, Johannes? You found my weak spot.”

“I didn’t know about that weak spot of yours before yesterday. But as you wish, _baby doll_.” The other man slurred, bringing a crimson blush over his partner’s face. “However, let’s hurry out of this place already, shall we? I want to get rid of that bloke from my mind.”

“Guess that’s what we both agree on.” Nodded Anze, before driving them back to the crowded streets. The count shifted comfortably in his chair, gradually grew accustomed to the vehicle. He asked:

“The night is still young. Do you want to go somewhere?”

“I’m not sure.” Mumbled Anze. “The children are in their night out, Lilith and Pip are already fed, so I don’t want to go home so early, either. Have you any idea?”

“Not at all.” The count shook his head.

“How about going to the movies?”

“The movies?”

“I remember they’re showing some Christmas films at this time. I know you’re not really into Christmas stuffs or movies in general but… I bet the movies are just as good as theater. Do you want to go with me?” Winked Anze. “As a date?”

The count smiled warmly. “Then let’s go.”


	35. Double date (part 1)

Ludwig had never felt so buoyant ever since he set foot on Berlin. It was a fine dry evening, frost in the air, but the snow didn’t bother him anymore, and he got a lot of spare time before forcing his mind back to work. At this moment, the young man was standing in an entertainment park, attentively focusing on the cardboard ducks before him, his hands gave the paint gun he was holding a good grip as he lifted the rear sight close to his eye. He just wished Herbert would stop cheering behind him.

“That’s a great shot!” Whistled Herbert, clapping his hands, as Ludwig finally left his shooting place and handed Sarah the prize he had granted. It was a small, handy teddy bear. Herbert went on, he chuckled, “Though it’s a pity you missed that last duck. Could’ve earned a bigger bear.”

“Instead of mocking me, why don’t you pay a slot and get one yourself?” Grunted Ludwig, pressing his knuckles upon his brother’s chest. Herbert pulled a thinking face:

“Maybe it’s for the best that I stay out of it. You’ll embarrass yourself because I’m the better shooter!”

Ludwig stuck his tongue out, “Chicken.” Herbert waved his hands:

“Admit it, it’s a universal truth.”

“I got a gold medal in archery.”

“I was a machine – gunner back in army.”

“I can hit the bull’s eye with one eye closed.”

“That’s cheating!”

“Guys, please, stop bickering and get your act together!” Groaned Alfred and Sarah from afar. The brothers huffed at each other, but obliged Alfred’s beckon to come closer, nonetheless, to see that the young girl was preparing for her first attempt in a high striker game. Apparently, she attracted a lot of people, crowding around her to see her play, all because of her small pretty frame. A former loser of the game sneered and laughed at her:

“You’re not going to win, kid. That thing is heavy as hell.”

The surrounding people were whispering the same thing, but Sarah paid no care to their chatters, and she slightly, playfully wiggled her hip as she posed for her strike.

With only one easy blow of the hammer, the metalic piece of the striker – meter went straight up and hit the bell, creating a deafening ringing sound before it slamed back into its first position, and then bounced up to ring the bell again. The men around went agaped and aghast, some of them whistled and cheered, but Sarah only grinned wide. She turned to her brothers:

“What do you think?”

Herbert and Alfred both gave thumbs up. “Wow.” They said in chorus.

Ludwig returned her grin, “10/10.”

The girl couldn’t help her giggles.

It was Herbert who later suggested them visiting the haunting house. Sarah seemed pretty excited, but Ludwig didn’t look as much enthusiastic as her. The young man pouted:

“Really, Herbert? We’re vampires. This house is not even close to our kindergarten!”

As he complained, Ludwig snapped the cardboard and rubber ghosts along his way, even almost broke one into halves. He glared at a statue of whom to be called Dracula, observing it at a distance of only a man breath. The young man chuckled to himself, “Have these people any single idea of how ancestor Vlad looks like?”

“Apparently not.” Alfred shook his head when he walked past him, then yelled to the top of his lungs when Herbert jumped out from a corner covered in a white cloth. “Herbert!” The young man panted.

“Got you!” Herbert laughed out loud and revealed himself, followed with a suffering groan from his brother soon afterwards. Ludwig brushed his hair back with his palm and muttered to himself:

“How come I’m this idiot’s brother?”

“It’s called fate. Deal with it, emo boy.” Winked Herbert, approaching close to Ludwig and leaned sideway against him, bold enough to rest his arm upon his brother’s head. He gave a halloa:

“Sweet Satan, this Vlad looks ridiculous!”

“Yeah only less ridiculous than you.” Bit back Ludwig with a baring teeth grin. “Now get off of my head before I knee you.”

“Easy, puppy. No need to scold.” Laughed out Herbert again, finally set his brother free, and Ludwig immediately brushed his clothes nicely back. Alfred piped in:

“Guys, I think we should stop wandering around this room, because Sarah is already a long way ahead of us.”

“Sure thing.” Agreed Ludwig, before he stumbled and slammed his face on the floor. He wiggled up, and found out his shoes laces were tangled to each other. “Herbert!”

.

.

The theater had got less crowded when the count and Anze finished their movie, though at holiday times like this it was still bustling compared to the normal days. The two men walked abreast along the lightened corridors, and it chanced on one of their rambles – most of which belonged to Anze himself – that their way led them through a souvenir hall. Anze looked around and chuckled:

“Pity, there’s no claw machine here.” He ended with a pout. The count sounded confused:

“Claw machine?” Asked he. “Is it some sort of a torture instrument?”

“What? No!” Laughed out Anze. “Just a gaming machine, a big box that contains a lot of interesting things. You insert a coin in it, you get a turn to play.” His hands moved to illustrate his description. “There’s a metalic, electrical claw inside it, which you can control via a joystick or a handle, and you use that claw to grab what you like most in the machine.”

“I’ll pretend that I understand.” Returned the count with a slight hum in his voice. “But you seem to like it very much.”

“It’s the best thing ever!” Exclaimed Anze, spreading out his arms. “Perhaps the hotels still keep some of it, I promise I’ll show you once I’ve found one. You’ll love it. Recently the government has been bulking close down them, though. What a shame.”

“Why?”

“They list it as a gambling violation category! How ridiculous that is!”

“Humans do have a lot of legislation nowadays.”

“I just want to have a good time.” Whined Anze, slumping his shoulders. The count cocked his brow:

“You’re not having a good time with me?”

“I didn’t mean that! It’s just… It’d be much, much better if I got a claw machine to fish something for you.”

“Relax, Anze, we’re in the souvenirs hall. We can buy what we like.”

“It’s not about the souvenirs, Johannes, it’s about the experiences! You have no idea how breathtaking it is to take part in a game when your winning chance is reduced by half! Oh… Alright, never mind, I know that face, you don’t understand anything, but I’d be eager to show you how to play, too! Man… I guess I have to wait for another…”

He came to a halt.

The souvenir hall was in a thriving trade around them, but a shop full of stuffed animals stood along that thoroughfare with an air of invitation, seizing completely the man’s gaze. The count tilted his head, trying to figure out at which thing his partner was staring, but the older man didn’t breathe a word. He stood in silence for a few brief seconds, then headed forward, and with the words fell into a vein of musing.

The pair walked on again, and then, “Johannes,” said Anze, “it’s still early, do you want to go on a picnic?”

He turned sharply and asked, as if he didn’t remember what he was talking, or glooming about at all. The count querried:

“Picnic? It’s snowing out there.”

“No big deal, we can sit in the car.” Beamed Anze brightly. “I know a spot.”

“Really? Aren’t you always full surprises?” Crooned the count.

“So it’s a yes, then?” Winked the other man. “I’ll buy some snack and wine.”

“Then let’s meet in the parking lot.” Agreed the count. “I’d like to see if there’s anything needs purchasing.”

“Deal.”

Anze obviously was not making a point of telling the other man where he was taking him. Still, both of them enjoyed the drive. The streets were all lightened up with Christmas decorations already, much to the count’s distaste, but Anze was quite the opposite as he kep gawking up at the colourful lights. It was by this time about ten at night, and the men drove further and further from the lively life of a big city which never truly slept. They turned a corner, and were greeted by the gates of a cemetery.

“Is this the spot you mentioned?” Hummed the count, the corner of his lips slightly curled up. Anze smiled:

“Do you like it?”

“A bit of the Victorian flavour.” He hummed. “Exquisite.”

Statues of angels stared down at the car as they followed a wide path through the faded tombstones. He turned left to the yard of the atheistic, at the meantime, he spoke, “Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“As much as the company, yes.” Returned the count. Anze felt he wanted to blush.

They finally crested a small hill, and got a beautiful view of the city. The night lights sparkled around them, and the moon watched over them from above. Anze was the first to speak:

“How are you feeling?”

The count heaved a soft sigh, “Less homesick. This sight reminds me somehow of my mountains.”

“You’re still not used to the urban life.” Commented Anze, much adoringly. The count just smiled:

“Perhaps I’m used to the solitude.” He deeply sighed. “Modern cities are… nice, in some ways, but they’re too fast for me. Too noisy. I prefer retreating to my own den. But now, to sit amongst generations of those who are forever silent, to be an undead in the midst of so many deaths, it brings me great comfort.”

“Feels like home, isn’t it?”

“Yes… Feels just like home.”

Anze shifted and stared at his partner. “But you’re frowning. What’s on your mind?”

“Oh? I am?” Stammered the count. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just… Thank you for taking me here.” He closed his eyes, and then opened them again shortly after, vivid blue orbs glittered as they stared back at the other man. “I feel peaceful… knowing that I’m here, finally, amongst the dead of Berlin, and even though this is not the only cemetery, and centuries have past… but…” He sighed deeply again, “she’d know I had returned.”

“Katalin?” Asked Anze, his voice soft. The count nodded, no more words uttered from him. The older man smiled, “I’m happy that you’ve found your inner peace.”

“No, Anze, I haven’t.” Mumbled the count. “And I’ll never find it. But I cherish this moment with you. I… I owe you a lot.”

“I cherish this moment with you, too, Johannes. I cherish every moment with you.” Anze’s smile turned into a soft grin, lifting up the gloom that veiled the count’s face. The other man could only shake his head:

“You’re a cheesy old man.”

“You have to endure me, then.” Chuckled Anze, before seeking for the count’s hand and lifting it up for a tender kiss. “Do you want some snack?” He brightly asked. “Eating the sorrow away, you know.”

“You know I can not eat, Anze.”

“But only the solid food, right? I think this one is fine.” Pondered the other man, as he brought out from his shopping bag two sticks of fluff. He handed the count one. The count asked:

“Spun sugar?”

“That name is not cool at all, Johannes. We call it cotton candy.” Slurred Anze. The other man smiled:

“That’s pretty of a poetic name.”

“Have you tried it before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then you should now.” Anze crinkled his eyes. “Worths a try. Just take a bite.”

The count appeared to hesitate at first, but after a moment, he tore one tiny bit morsel from his cotton candy and put into his mouth. The flavour was tooth-rotten sweet, smelled like berries, but the texture immediately tingled and melted upon his tongue, leaving him with a look of both surprise and amusement. “It melts.” He said.

“So you’re fine with it, aren’t you? It’s not solid food anymore once it has melted.”

“I think so, but this thing is too sweet for me. I suppose I’ll just be slowly nibbling on it.”

Anze only laughed, before taking a great bite of his own candy. “Serve yourself.” He grinned. As he chewed his eyes darted to the rear end mirror, taking in the sight of the giant stuffed rabbit which had been sitting in the back seat since he locked the car door. “I see you’ve got a Christmas present for Herbert already.” Commented the man.

“What?” The count turned around, glancing at the white rabbit before fixing his eyes back on Anze. “Oh, that thing…” said he, “it’s not for Herbert.”

“Oh?” Anze blinked in surprise.

“I did intend to buy some presents for the children, but not tonight.” Returned the count, stammered a little bit. “That rabbit… it’s yours.”

“Mine?” Gasped Anze. He wheezled when the other man nodded, “Johannes, that’s a huge goddamn rabbit with pink button eyes in the back seat!”

“I… hope you like it?” Returned the count. “I caught you staring at the stuffed animals back in the souvenir hall, but I didn’t know for certain what you wanted, so I… I bought the biggest teddy.”

Anze’s irises blown wide, and he went all silent. Dumbfounded. The count tended to ask what was wrong, but without a word Anze tossed his cotton candy aside and jumped into the back seat, hugging and burying his face into the soft, plush toy bunny’s tummy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” The man kept chanting with his muffled voice.

“I didn’t know you like teddies this much.” Purred the count, leaning back against his seat as he watched his partner. The other man was still squealing in his own happiness, redness faintly blushed his pale face. He mumbled:

“I was so scared to buy it on my own, you know.”

“I think I understand why.”

“We’re all conditioned to think that men are not allowed to like these things, aren’t we?” Chuckled Anze, closing his eyes as he comforted himself with the giant bunny in his arms. “I’ll put this in our bed. Name him Johann.” His voice sounded droopy. “It’ll be fantastic. I’ll talk with him when you’re not there.”

The count nearly choked. “I can’t believe you decide to cheat on me with a bunny right in front of my face.”

“Don’t pout, my queen, you’re always my priority.” Murmured Anze. The count shuddered:

“Disgusting.”

“This is the best Christmas present ever.” Thanked Anze again. “Now I have two teddies to hug at bedtime.”

“Two?” Asked the count. Anze grinned:

“You’re the other one.” Chuckled he, finally released his bunny and climbed back to the driver seat. “My personal soft giant feline teddy.”

The count was dumbfounded for the briefest of moment, before he yanked his head against the chair as he shook himself in a laughing fit. Anze crinkled his eyes, he continued, “I didn’t know you would find it that much funny.”

“That was unexpected.” Chortled the count.

“In a good way?”

“In a good way.”

“Brilliant!” Crooned Anze, as he proceded two chilly bottles of wine. “Glad I’m able to make my grumpy cat smile. Would you care for a drink to celebrate?”

“Are we going to drink straight from the bottles?” Questioned the count, receiving his wine with a slight tilt of his head. Anze returned:

“Glasses are too formal and mainstream, don’t you think?” Grinned he like a Cheshire cat. “Tis’ a picnic. Being easy-going a little bit doesn’t harm anyone. Besides, it brings a new experience, I tell you.”

With that he raised his bottle towards the count. The other man couldn’t help but chuckled, gradually feeling his shoulders less burdened with the old time etiquettes, and he returned Anze with a smile. “To us.” Said he, chattered their bottles together. Anze returned the same thing, and then they both relished in their alcohol.

The city lights were still sparkling down the hill, from distant afar there came sounds of police sirens. _What a busy night_ , they thought.

At some point when they were a little bit tipsy, Anze couldn’t hide his yawn.

“We should head back home if you like. You seem sleepy.” Commented the count, putting down his wine now had been reduced by half. Anze did the same, but he bat his hand:

“It’s barely midnight. I want to stay here with you for a little more.”

“You say as if we are not sharing the same bedroom.” The count gave a tick of his tongue, smiling, but his observing eyes were a little worried. He said, “The bags under your eyes are pretty obvious by now. Are you having sleepless days?”

“Sleepless days?” Anze rubbed his sunken eyes. “Maybe.” Sighed he. “I’ve been having… nightmares.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Well, I guess it’s a way to relieve stress, isn’t it?” Returned Anze, with a hint of weariness in his voice. He fumbled through his belongings for a handy thermos of lemonade, which he declared to be a helpful way to sober up, took a large gulp, inhaled deeply, then sighed, “I dreamt of my father.”

“I’ve never heard you mention him.” Commeted the count. Anze shook his head.

“By now he’s not anyone important enough to be mentioned by any of us.”

“But you saw him in your nightmares. He must have some certain impact on you.”

“He did.” Nodded the other man, his face fell. “Our relationship didn’t go on very well back then.”

“What happened?”

“He died.” Laughed off Anze. The count had to return that bitter laugh:

“I mean before that.”

“Well, it’s a long story.”

“We have a lot of time.” Encouraged the count. “But I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. Do whatever helps you comfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable at all, really.” Assured Anze, shifting in his seat. “Just let me think of where to start.”

“Then… let’s start with what sort of man he is to see.”

“Oh, about that…” Hummed Anze, thinking. “I’m not very sure now, I’ve completely forgot his face. It’s been centuries, after all. What I saw in my dreams was just a shadow of him with no identity, but I just knew it was him.”

“I see.”

“He is not easy to describe, either.” Continued the other man. “There was not anything wrong with his appearance, as long as I can remember, but he was pretty stiff to say the least, somehow displeasing, just down-right detestable, yet powerful in the late 16th century.”

“He was a landlord after all, wasn’t he?”

“Indeed. For a little lad like me back then the man was intimidating. I never saw a man I so disliked, or more accurately, frightened of.”

“Did he mistreat you?”

“Mistreat?” Chuckled Anze. “Man, at that time it was called strict parenting.”

“Sweet Satan, of course.” Cursed the count. Anze went on:

“He would beat me black and green whenever I failed to obey. Actually, it was more of my governor doing the beating, but still, under my father’s orders. My mother couldn’t do anything, though. She was locked in her temple most of the times when I was a kid.”

“Did your father know she was a witch?”

“I was surprised that he never had the intention to bring her to the stake.” Returned Anze with a faint sigh. “But that’s another branch of the story. Back to mine, I tell you, it got worse when he figured out my sexuality.”

“I could imagine how hellish it was…” The count gave Anze’s wrist a gentle squeeze. He sounded dreadfully sad.

“I turned sixteen at that time. Tough years of puberty, yes?”

“Right.” Sighed the count. “The worst years. I was tired of those lessons and trainings over and over.”

“That was why I sneaked out of class one day.” Chuckled Anze. “Didn’t attend a single second, just to run around the meadow with the puppies. It was a sunny summer day, but when evening came, it rained cats and dogs, so I got all soaked up. I couldn’t let any of the maids or servants find me like a drained rat, so I decided to sneak inside through the side door near the stable. That was when I bumped into him.”

“Your father?”

“No.” Anze shook his head. For once he smiled, a faint blush painted across his pale cheeks. “He was my first love.”

“Sixteen and you already bumped into people.” Crooned the count. Anze couldn’t help but embarrassingly scratched his head.

“Let’s say I’m cursed to bump into my beloveds.” He barked a laugh. “I crashed into you in 1621, too, didn’t I?”

“I remember it was quite the opposite.” Said the count. “But back to your story, what happened afterwards?”

“That was our castle’s stable boy.” Told the other man. “His name was Leon, I still remember, but I’ve forgot his face. There’s only this obscure memory in the back of my mind that he was adorably pleasant, the kind of sunshine that you would immediately want to hold in your arms and protect him at any cost.” His voice was dreamy. “He helped me back to my chamber without being noticed, and we kept in touch for some time. It was that evening when I had my first kiss.”

“Who did it first?”

“Me, of course.” Smirked Anze. The count purred:

“I’ll pretend to be surpised.” He fully turned to the other man. “But that sounds like a classical romance story.”

“Not for long.” Pouted Anze. “One day I went to visit my mother and confide in her about everything. She was fine, but, you know… The walls had ears.”

“Somebody else reported you.”

“Indeed.” Mourned Anze. “When I knew what was going on then Leon had vanished out of sight. I never got a chance to say goodbye, or find out what had happened to him. That night my father did give me a good whip.”

“…”

“He had been beating me for days… Or weeks? I don’t remember, but he tried to ‘cure’ the devil out of me, as he declared. Mind you, as though it may sound funny, but I was really lanky back then, so as got treated like that, I just wished I could’ve died. Most of the scars imprinted on my back were his remarks.” He slightly hissed as he pointed out, then gently traced his fingers along the scar across his lips. “And I got this one when I tried to confront him.”

“How did everything end?”

“Well… when he found out it was no use whipping me, he attempted to have my head roll. But not before my mother had his first.”

“She did… what?” The count widened his eyes.

“It was pretty messy with only a simple axe, I recall, but she had to do it to save my life.” Shrugged Anze. “It’s still a mystery to me how she went away with the murder, though. But yes, in the end, no one suspected a thing, and she helped me entitle as the next landlord. End of story.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But even though my father is long gone, I admit I still feel distressed to see him in my sleep.”

With that he went slump in his chair, no more words or whimpers uttered from him. Yet he felt relieved, to pour out all of his story like that. The count didn’t respond so soon, he shifted and leaned to him, his hand still gently squeezed the other man’s wrist. Anze was surprised when the count kissed the scar across his mouth.

“I’m so sorry you went through all that.” Murmured he, bringing a deeper shade of red over his partner’s face. “But you are safe from that sort of thing with me, baby doll.”

“Hey, no worries.” Laughed off the other man. “I’m old now, it’s not a big deal to me anymore if anyone find out my taste in companionship.”

“I know, but my darling needs pampering sometimes.” As he cooed, the count slid his fingers through his partner’s hair and brushed it gently. It made Anze swallow hard. “Worry not, I’ll help you get rid of those bad dreams.”

“You… you can?”

“I’m a magician in the dreamland.” He proudly declared. “You’ll never have to see him haunt you anymore.”

“That’s… that’s incredible. Thank you so much…” Anze deeply sighed when the count pressed their foreheads together. He didn’t feel anything change, but trusting his partner didn’t hurt, he decided.


	36. Double date (part 2)

Two doors from one corner, that was where Alfred found out he was lost. It was not something the young man really worried about, but he concerned more of the elderly gentleman who had just vanished before him. Alfred blinked his eyes. His vision, the world around him, in a second went distorted and tinted with red, leaving him alone and gasping among a field of monsters.

Alfred used to be afraid of monsters, and even now, he admitted it still baffled his eyes to witness any creatures without a human-like form. The haunting house, it was still the same or so it seemed, except that his family was nowhere in sight, and shadows were creeping upon the lamplighted walls. Alfred swallowed dry nothing in his throat and walked forwards, opened the double doors at the corner to step outside. He swore he had seen… a cat?

It was not any normal cat, and Alfred recognized it immediately. A big, fat cat which ran only on its hind legs. Alfred had encountered it before, but this time the animal showed obvious indifference, before vanished between the red mist without a single glance, just like that old man in a grey suit.

_The old gentleman in grey suit…_

Alfred gasped when he jumped back into reality again. He panted loudly but with gratefulness when the vibrant lights of the entertainment park welcomed him, as well as the chilly frost of winter upon his skin. The young man rubbed his gloved palms and blew warm breaths into them, steadying himself, at where he just noticed was the alley by the side of the haunting house.

“Alfred.”

Soft voice rose from behind as a relief to the young man. Alfred spun around, to his expectation there came Herbert, emerging from the double doors he just exited. The viscount frowned, his face a solid picture of disquietude.

“Are you alright?” Asked Herbert, slowly approaching the other man. “It was odd you left the game so abruptly. Did something trouble you?”

Alfred flinched at first, but forced a smile. “I’m fine.” Said he.

“But your face tells different, mon chéri.” Returned Herbert with clouded brows. “You’re pale. You’re panting.”

As he spoke Herbert reached out his hand to cup Alfred’s face, giving it a few tender strokes. The younger man was indeed trembling slightly, which now securing more of Herbert’s feeling of something gone wrong. The visount asked, “Was it your parallel vision again?”

Alfred was not in any mood to hide, so, “yes”, said he, muttering and staring down at his feet. Herbert sighed deeply. He gave a faint smile, and seized his partner’s hand as he tucked them away from the cramped alley. His voice was dreadfully sad, “Let’s get you to somewhere more pleasant.”

They ended up at a cafeteria not far away. Herbert purchased some hot cocoa for both of them, and waited patiently from across the small square table for Alfred to regain his breath. The younger man took a tiny sip, then stared down at his steamy drink. “Thank you.” He meekly spoke.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I suppose.” For once, Alfred smiled, and gawked up to look at Herbert. “I’m sorry for leaving so arbitrarily.”

“There’s no need to apology.” Assured Herbert. “But what happened?” He sounded genuinely concerned. “I followed you back there, and… you seemed to be completely out of this world.”

“Because I was out of this world.” Mumbled Alfred, pouting slightly. Herbert widened his eyes:

“What does that even mean?”

“Remember when Ludwig told us that his sire could travel between the spiritual world and ours?” Sniffed Alfred, idling upon the table with his arms crossed, Herbert hanged on his every word. “I think I was travelling, too.”

“Oh…” Whispered Herbert. “You look so distressed after that. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugged Alfred, sitting straight up. “But I think I need to. Because I…” Stammered he, suddenly his eyes were puffing red. “I think I saw professor.”

“My goodness…” Mumbled Herbert, as he gave his partner’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Alfred went on:

“Do you think he’ll forgive me? Like, ever?” His voice was low and husky, somewhat broken. Herbert felt his guts churn.

“You did nothing wrong, Alfred.” He stated.

“I left him alone, Herbert. I left him alone.” Protested Alfred. A close observer could see that he wanted to cry, but in the end, no tear was ever falling. Alfred sniffed, “I know… that it was only my imagination in the Void, but… you see, I can’t help this feeling that he came back to blame me.”

“It’s not your fault that you didn’t follow him anymore.” Returned Herbert. “You never harmed him one bit. How can you be the sinner?”

“I… I don’t know…” Alfred’s eyelashes trembled. “I just feel guilty. For leaving him in the mountain that night… What a tragic end for an old scholar like him.”

Herbert sighed deeply at the sight of the miserable man in front of him. They had talked about this topic before, even though it wasn’t much, because Alfred was often quiet as a mouse, yet had the anxiety too big to ever speak up much about his professor. The old man was not only a teacher, but more of a family, a grandfather – as he might seemed – to Alfred, Herbert was well aware, and it trifled his conscience not to be able to help the young man get rid of that complex of being the guilty one. Alfred had accepted this un-life of his with as much difficulty as Herbert’s father, the young viscount knew, and hitherto, had been battling with those haunting memories of his past.

“Your professor was not dead in the mountain.” Assured Herbert, his lips formed a thin line. It was neither a truth nor a lie, but once it had been spoken, Herbert realized how much Alfred needed it to find his inner peace. The younger man breathed a soft hiss:

“He wasn’t?”

“There was no corpse.” Replied the other man firmly. “I know the mountain like the back of my hands, you can count on me with it.”

Alfred was not so sure. “Oh… really…” He whimpered.

“Easy, mon chéri, don’t let yourself all worked up.” Herbert gave a warm smile. “Professor Abronsius is a clever man, I bet he handled out of Transyvania without any of us knowing it. He probably had spent the last years of his life in his hometown and died a peaceful death.”

“But I… I still feel sad about him, Herbert. He was really old.” The younger man sighed deeply. “I should’ve helped him more. He was like my own grandfather back then, and I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

“I believe he would understand, somehow.” Whispered Herbert. “You’d already devoted your life to him and his study. Even when it means you almost murdered my whole family that year.” He ended with a playful chuckle. It was a relief that Alfred choked and laughed.

“When we’re done with Asmodeus…” Alfred started with a low hum. “Can you come with me to Königsberg University? I studied with him back there when I was younger, and I… I do hope to be able to find any clues which could help me find where he lays.”

“I believe your city Königsberg is no more after the war…” chuckled Herbert, “but you know the place, that’s fine. Anything to keep you happy. We can visit his grave afterwards so you can bid him a proper farewell.”

“Thank you, Herbert.”

“Isn’t that smile on your face much better?” Cooed Herbert, making the other man blush. Alfred finally relished in his drink, and with no more weariness burdened his chest, he followed Herbert through the park for a late night stroll. Alfred prefered autumn, when it was cool enough and there wasn’t much sun, but the cold, at this moment, didn’t bother him anymore, he thought.

They partook in a few more games, a helpful way to cheer up a sombre heart, as Herbert gaily said. At this moment, they were standing in front of a rare claw machine, and Herbert let out another groan as he failed to grab that stuffed kitten for the fifth time in a row.

“Calm down, Herbert, it’s just a game.” Smiled Alfred, patting the other man’s arm. Herbert let out an extravagant whine:

“But can’t you see it’s already the fifth time I tried? This game is cursed!”

“Easy, we can play another game if you want.”

“But I think you’ll love that stuffed kitten!” Whimpered Herbert, as Alfred began to push him away. The younger man laughed:

“Thank you, Herbert, but you can set your mind at ease that we have lots of stuffed animals at the castle.”

“But we’re not at the castle!” Reasoned Herbert with a high voice. “We’re in Berlin! We haven’t had any stuffed animals in our house in Berlin yet!”

“If you insist, we can try another game.” Giggled Alfred, followed with another dramatic whine from the other man. The pair walked on for a while with Herbert huffing, and then, “Herbert”, said Alfred, staring at a small souvenir store. The viscount stopped.

“Yes?” Asked he, staring as well.

Alfred tilted his chin towards a big black cat sitting upon the store’s displaying table. “How many percents do you think that’s Beghemot in disguise?” He ended with a playful curl of his lips.

“Beghemot?” Herbert cocked a brow of surprise. “That chonky and talkative cat of Satan?”

“Yes.” Hummed Alfred, fixing his gaze more attentively on the animal. “Because I see that black cat doesn’t look like a toy at all.”

“Man, you sure do have eagle eyes.” Grinned Herbert. “If that’s him, what’s he doing here in Berlin?”

“No clue.” Shrugged Alfred. “I caught sight of him in the Void minutes earlier, you know.”

“Really? Then he must be lurking around. Did you say hi to him?”

“No, got no chance.” Alfred shook his head. “He was probably on his patrol and didn’t notice me.”

“Well, he’s a cat. We should not expect much from him.”

Once they’d decided to leave the souvenir store, the men could hear the sound of crashing glass, then the voice of the shopkeeper yelling about somebody nick a whole pack of her good tangerines. _Yes, it was definitely Beghemot_ , Herbert and Alfred laughed to themselves.

Cotton candy was one of the human’s snack that Alfred was grateful he was still able to enjoy. Herbert purchased two sticks for both of them, and they stood together nibling on their sweet just like the true children they were. At one point, Herbert couldn’t help it and slid his fingers to brush Alfred’s hair, even giving him a few good scratches.

“I didn’t notice you’re not wearing any hat to keep warm.” Murmured he. “Sorry.”

“Oh?” Purred Alfred softly like a little cat. “It’s no deal, I just left my hat at home. My head’s not cold, anyway.”

“But look what the frost has done to your soft hair, mon chéri.” Pouted Herbert, gazing down adoringly. “It’s just as soft as cotton candy, yet it’ll become wet and icky in no long time. I should buy you a new woolen hat now. What colour do you like other than red?”

“Well… dark red? Scarlet? Crimson?” Giggled Alfred. “Just kidding Herbert, you don’t need to…”

“Faggots.”

A thick, sour voice interrupted them. Herbert scolded immediately and sharply turned, facing a couple who were standing several feet from afar. The lady was busying popping her gum, while the man gave Herbert and Alfred a disgusting look. Herbert tried his best to pull a straight face.

“Excuse me, sir, what did you say?” He asked.

The stranger spitted his own chewing gum and jeered, “I said you’re sick.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you want to mean, sir, because I’m perfectly healthy, and so is he.” Returned Herbert, as he gave Alfred’s shoulder a firm, assuring grip of his hand. The other man chortled:

“Are you pretending to be stupid or are you truly stupid?” His eyes darted from Herbert and then to Alfred, before he went on, “Let me repeat for you, then. You’re faggots.”

“Enough with the insults, we haven’t done anything wrong to you.” Gritted Alfred, but Herbert stepped before him. The other man laughed:

“You gay fucks stand in my eye-sight, that’s enough.” He pointed to Alfred. “And how old are you, anyway, kid? Are you sure this blond dandy is not a pedophile, too?”

Herbert felt his face burn hot. “He’s my brother.” He snarled.

“What kind of brothers to hold hands like that…” Mocked the man, joined in with his girlfriend. “And look at how flashy you dress. It’s clear as the day you’re one of those filthy viles. To be interested in that sort of… thing.”

“You may stop being hostile and leave us.” Gritted Herbert.

“Hostile?” The man suddenly seemed to be offended. “You two go to Hell!” Then he nudged at his girlfriend, smirking, “We should report them to the authorities soon. For abusing God’s will with their disgusting acts.”

“We’re brothers. You have no proof.”

Herbert decided to be patient for the last time, but the couple heeded no care, and then turned to their heels with a laugh of savage. Yet, soon enough, they bumped into another man, and when they gawked up, it was Ludwig’s fiercing eyes that they faced.

“Bad news from God, my friends.”

That was the last thing the stranger couple had heard before their shadows left them just like their consciousness. People would find the two corpses in a dark alley when morning came, but it wouldn’t be his business anymore, Ludwig shrugged.

The trip home was quiet and tense at first. Ludwig spoke when they were all settled in the car, as he drove, he continuosly kept an eye on both the roads and his brother. “Really, Herbert, you’re getting softer and softer towards humans over years.”

“I guess it’s a good thing, no?” Sulked Herbert, leaning against the windowsill. His brother had to shake his head:

“At least defend for yourself more drastically. Those humans insulting you are nothing but annoying lice.”

“I know.” Sighed Herbert, still staring out of the window. “I just didn’t want to fight, that’s all.”

“That’s strange, Herbert, really strange.” Commented Ludwig. “You would be willing to rip anyone apart if people made fun of your…”

“I was having a date, alright?” Squawked Herbert, feeling his face bush hard with embarrassment as he turned sharply to his brother for the briefest of moment. “It’d ruin everything if I chose to fight. Beside, it’d cause much attention, in the middle of a crowd like that.”

“You could have attacked their shadows when they turned their backs to you.”

“But I didn’t, alright? It’s already done now, no use blaming me.”

“I’m not blaming you ever, I was just feeling a bit odd that you’d decided to have sympathy towards them.”

“I didn’t sympathize them, I chose to do what I thought not to give Alfred traumatizes. Understood?”

“Can never understand the logic of those who’re in love.” Chuckled Ludwig as he drove on. “Alfred seems fine by now. Right, lad?”

Alfred nodded, giving Herbert a soft smile, “I’m fine. Thank you for thinking for my well-being like that, Herbert.”

Ludwig pouted, “You two missed all the fun.”

“Not every fight is fun, Ludwig.” Returned his brother.

“Agree, but you did miss a fun one.” Replied Ludwig. “Gotta teach those phobics a lesson for sticking their noses in others’ business. Probably their last lesson, though. But who cares?” He carelessly shrugged. “They even dared to curse the devil to go to Hell! So, damn of them both! Lucky enough we had a helpful baby in the backseat.” He then grinned, pointing back to Sarah. The girl laughed:

“He tasted awful, by the way, I tell you.” She ended with a pretending grimace. “Reeked of cheap beer. Remind me of my father.”

“Mr. Chagal?”

“Yes.”

“Sweet Satan.” Whined the others at once.

“His gal’s blood didn’t taste any better, I have no idea what she consumed before that at all.” Nodded Ludwig, wincing as well. Sarah pouted:

“Now I only want to go home as fast as possible to take a bath.”

“As you wish, little lady.” Hummed Ludwig, and the man immediately pushed hard on his pedal. Their car at once drifted off in the streets with impossible speed, soon followed with lights and howling sirens of the police which were getting more and more distinct behind. Herbert turned to his back and asked:

“Are they going to get me because of my gayness?”

“No, I believe they’re after us for driving over the speed limit.” Muttered Alfred, grasping at his own chair. Herbert yelled:

“Ludwig, slow down and turn on the goddamn flashers!”


	37. Murder! Murder!

A couple of days later, Berlin was startled by the mass missing of children at the age from around six to eleven. The details were few, the only reports only showed that the children were not related and scattered from around the city, all of whom were last seen wander near alleys and dingy streets – which was much understandable, and parents were screaming, wondering how their babies could get lost in just a second behind their backs, no matter day or night. Hitherto, there was no witness to behold what had happened, as it seemed the children just happened to vanish into thin air, lost without a trace or any belongings left.

This was brought to Anze as soon as the newspaper was published, and he had no sooner seen the lines than he shot out a solemn lip. “This is madness.” Muttered he to himself, or at least to Lilith sitting in the passenger seat, if she was able to understand. The man leaned upon his steering wheel when he scanned the streets around him with observing eyes. He doubted the culprit was human.

Sight of a woman with dirty-blonde hair caught his attention. Anze narrowed his eyes. Obviously it was the butler at Asmodeus’ house in the Old Town of Spandau, Anze recalled, now walking down the roads with her chin high. Without hesitation Anze whipped his key to start the engine and followed her. She walked briskly, pausing only for a second to put on sunglasses, then headed on again, before she suddenly took a sharp turn into a bystreet. Anze parked his car and followed alone.

The bystreet led to a blind corner. It was a cramped, deserted area, saved for only two people standing with one’s back to another. The woman slightly tilted her head and spoke from over her shoulder:

“Good morning, my sweet gentleman. I see you’ve been trailing after me. Eager for some service already?”

“Enough with the acting.” Returned Anze. “You know who I am.”

The woman spun and lowered her sunglasses, and “Oh?”, she rounded her painted lips. “We meet again. So unexpected.” She crooned, now taking off her glasses to take in the full view of the man in front of her as though he was a prey, just like in their last encounter. Anze asked without any further ado:

“What are you doing here?”

“Shopping.” Shrugged the woman, giggling slightly to herself. Anze didn’t sound very amused:

“In Central Berlin?” Querried he. “It’s quite a distance you’ve travelled. Then this place probably has something the northern doesn’t.”

“Oh, I just love the atmosphere here. There’s no need to fret.” The woman waved her hand. At the man’s still grim face she sweetly slurred, “Come on, darling, you don’t have to pull that face with me. I’ll tell you, alright? I’m just going hunting.”

“There’re still enough humans around your place.” Bit back Anze. The woman laughed:

“You certain have a lot of questions. Are you sure you’re not a detective?”

“I believe I told you I wasn’t.” Smirked Anze. “But a strange vampire wanders around looking for food in another’s territory could be considered an intruder. Justify your presence or leave.”

“This part of Berlin is your territory?” Sneered the woman.

“It belongs to a familiar of mine from whom I’ve gained the access.”

“You intruded my sire’s territory a few days ago, let’s call this is fair play.”

“I didn’t hunt in your land, my lady. Obviously it hits differently.”

“Why do you have to keep biting back like that?” Pouted the woman, her face twitched a bit. “Very well. I’ll leave as soon as I’ve finished my lunch. In exchange for this impromptu hunt, I’ll do anything you want in my capacity.”

“Does information in exchange for freedom count?”

“Sure.”

“Lovely.” Anze sounded pleased. He was a little reluctant at first, but eventually, he asked, “Where’s Asmodeus?”

“Love to dig straight into your matter, don’t you? But I’m afraid I don’t know.” Returned the woman as though it was the most natural thing ever. “I told you his habits were irregular.”

“Really…” Grumbled Anze. “Have you read the news?”

“The news?”

“The ones about the missing children.”

“Oh, yes…” She hissed and hummed. “I’m aware of it. But what of that?”

“I need to justify if your sire’s related to it or not.”

“My dear, I have no clue, and that’s pure honesty.” Giggled the woman again. “And beside, even if I know, why should I ever tell you? We’re not on the same boat, it seems. And don’t hold this against me, but you’re really, really, my dear, bad at interrogation. To hastily ask me forthright like that… You’re no one I fear enough to spill **all** the tea.” She ended with an amusing hum. Anze returned:

“Maybe you’re right.” Said he. “Then I suppose there’s nothing more for me to learn here. May you excuse me, and… goodbye.” He ended with a slight bow, then turned to his heels and walked away. But immediately he was pulled back and slammed against a wall, the woman was pressing her body close to him. She purred:

“Why are you always acting like you’re running out of time?” She smoothed the fine fabric around his chest and tickled his chin. “The fun hasn’t begun yet.”

“I’m not here for fun.” Anze glared down. The woman wiggled:

“But I am.” Grinned she. “Let me tell you, my dear, I was planning to have some good time with some random human before devouring him, but now…” she chuckled, “here you are instead. No matter what, you ruined my meal, you know.”

“Oh, then I apology for ruining your hunting plan.” Gritted he, mockingly. “In my familiar’s territory.”

“You’re talking it as though you own this piece of land. But very well, if you insist, why don’t you make it up for me this time and I’ll never show up again? I would appreciate a bite.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. Fetch some human and then leave.” Confirmed Anze before he walked away again. This time from behind him rose a short, soft laugh, then he knew the woman was launching herself at him.

Anze dodged and grabbed her by the shoulders, hurled her backwards and the raging woman hit the brick wall. It didn’t prevent her from scoffing, and she bared her fangs, her eyes glowed red, hissing and lurching at him again like a wild cheetah. The man stroke back unyieldingly, pulling out his pistol at once to defend. It was hard to aim correctly when the woman kept flinging herself like a mad animal like that, but eventually Anze had a bullet pierce through her thigh. She hissed fervently, but to the man’s aghast it didn’t baffle her one bit and she lunged at him, tossing his gun away with a slap. Anze brandished his claws to fight bare-handed and at one point, his grip on her arm was violent enough to tear her limb apart, leaving the flesh hanging on the bones like cotton getting ripped from a woolen doll. Anze was petrified. The woman didn’t scream of agony, and just like that she used her fine hand to lift her detatched arm up, fixing it back into its first place as though nothing had ever happened, as though she just sewed it back to her body. She grinned menancingly at the terrified eyes of the man.

They didn’t know how long they had been battling with each other. It was only minutes, but felt like hours. The scuffle required them both some rollings and pinnings, and the woman brandished her claws at Anze’s throat when she straddled him on the ground.

“I’ll have your head!”

She growled madly in her throat when her talon-like fingers wrapped around her enemy’s neck and squeezed. Anze struggled, didn’t have time to wonder how she happened to have such strength, when he felt the bone and flesh of his neck was going to be torn apart, nearly squished into muddy pieces, and his free hand quickly roamed everywhere in desperate search for anything could help him.

Anze’s hand met his pistol again. With one single shot the bullet was sent right through her chest and blew her heart away, warm blood immediately spilled from her wound and dripped upon Anze’s upper body. The woman collasped with a sigh, her twisted face eased, and her world began to darken. Sounds began to muffle, as if her eyes were stuffed with wool. The pain was still throbbing in her chest when she lay there motionless, but as it gradually ebbed away, she could feel her body slowing.

She blinked for one last time before she died.

Anze panted at what had just happened to him, grimacing at the foul smell of guts and gore reeking on him and the newly made corpse, he himself was splattered with blood from the top of his head to the soles of his shoes. The man hurried to his feet and staggered a few steps, then decided to teleport to inside his car. He appeared to lie with his back on the car’s floor. Lilith at once barked at him, but he didn’t let her lick him, and quickly fumbled through the first aid kit for some tools to help him clean.

Anze drove back home when it was only noon. The man took a bath and tossed his clothes carelessly into the basket, and when he was washing the last scent of blood off his hands, familiar voice rose from behind:

“You’re up early.”

“Oh?” Returned Anze with a quick glance, before he turned back to the sink to wash the soap away. “Right… I didn’t sleep, actually.” Said he. “Had to bring Lilith out for a walk.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Count von Krolock emerged from the door and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms and waited. Anze turned back.

“I’ve slept enough, don’t worry.” He said with a smile. He was soon troubled that the other man frowned and approached him.

“You smell of blood.” Sniffed the count. “Where were you? Did you fight?”

“No.” Lied he, but the count wouldn’t have any of that. The younger man gently took hold of Anze’s neck and slightly turned to a side. He muttered:

“Don’t hide me, Anze.” His eyes were sharp, yet somewhat pleading. “What happened?”

Anze swallowed hard and dry. He wanted to avert his eyes, but his partner kept him in place, and they stood there, eyes on each other for a few fixed seconds. Anze whimpered, “Yes… I fought.” He sighed.

“With whom?”

“Asmodeus’ butler.” Confessed he. The count widened his eyes, demanding for further details. “I caught her hunting around here.” Told Anze, meekly. “Went after her for any information about Asmodeus. Didn’t help at all.”

“The bruises around your neck are horrendous.” Whispered the other man, as he moved his hand to cup at Anze’s face. The older man leaned into the touch, in a second he forgot how he was nearly murdered minutes ago, and he sighed deeply with a smile:

“I’m fine now. It’s only a little sore.”

With that he stumbled away and back to his chamber. He’d put on bandages and new clothes once the count entered after him. Turning around, he asked:

“What about you? Why are you up so early?”

“I promised to help Alfred practice controlling his parallel vision.” Returned the count. “The two best times are midday and midnight.”

“Oh?” Anze tilted his head. “Why?”

“It’s when spirits are the strongest, at the peaks of both day and night. The impeccable time for him to see if there’re any of the… ghosts…” he stammered a bit, as he tried to to find the correct words, “lurking around.”

“And how’s his process?”

“So far so good.” Nodded the count. “But I’m afraid the boy still needs more time to get used to seeing things like that.”

“Glad to know. Is he downstairs?”

“Yes, and mind us, the others would be up in no long time as well. I think we should head down, and…” The count heaved a soft sigh. “you should inform them about what happened.”

There was a little rambling talk of the Krolock’s children while they enjoyed breakfast of schwarzwurst and stored bloody-wine, before Anze decided to speak up about his incident. Ludwig almost choked on his coffee. “I can’t imagine him befriending anyone, let alone hiring a butler. Are you sure that was her?”

“We recognized each other.” Shrugged Anze, idling in his seat. “She spoke in earnest, but I still don’t trust her reason of hunting around here.”

“That sounds pretty shady.” Commented Herbert. “We don’t go hunting in strangers’ territories without permission. That’s against the Codex.”

“That woman either decided to be a rebel or was hiding something.” Barked out Ludwig. “Must be running some errands for Asmodeus himself.”

“Possible.” Nodded Anze. “I don’t think she was honest when she said she didn’t know anything of Asmodeus’ whereabouts. I shouldn’t have ended her for further interogation, but…” He gave a mournful shake of his head and rubbed his neck, “Had to do it before she ended me. That woman was a monster.”

“How come?” Ludwig seemed strangely fascinated.

“She has the power of a whole herd of wild oxes and the speed of a dozen leopards.” He shuddered as he recalled. “And on top of that… I ripped her arm off when we fought, but she fixed it back in place like sewing a dragdoll. Our usual healing ability can’t make it done that fast.”

“She seems to be a successful experiment of Asmodeus.” Sneered Ludwig, yet disdainfully. Anze remembered:

“She called herself his masterpiece when we first met.”

“Then it’s true.” Ludwig flicked his tongue. “Asmodeus loves going around turning people into his monsters.”

“That’s just… horrible.” Muttered Alfred with a crinkle of his nose. “How many people, or vampires, have perished because of his crooked science?”

“No one knows, and no one knows how many beasts he’s having already, either.” Chuckled Ludwig. “Could’ve been none. Could’ve been an army.”

Anze came to ask, “Are you aware of the missing children these days?”

“We all read. And what of that?” Asked the count.

“I believe our snake friend has something to do with it. I have no evidences yet, but, the more you think about it, the more suspicious he becomes. Children are vanishing in an eye-blink, regardless day or night, while the man is sort of forming an army, which requires a lot of victims to get under his experiments. And he has a Carpathian vampire as his butler. Well, he had.”

“So you are saying that that woman has been abducting children for him, and he could be testing things on those children?” Considered the count about the abilities. Anze appeared to hesitate at first, but then he nodded, and they all fell into grave silence. Things were getting more and more nightmarish than they used to be.

The next morning came with the whole mansion burried deep in complete dead air. When evening rolled about, it was Herbert’s shout that caught everybody’s attention:

“Father! Father! Have you seen the papers?”

The young viscount profusely pushed the newly published newspaper from morning to his father with an expression of mere shock on his face. There, bold and all caplocked in the headline, was the informing of a new murder.

“No vampires in their right minds would do it.” Confirmed Herbert, waiting for the count to finish reading the news. The whole family gathered around when the count put the papers down upon the table.

“Looks more like what a newly born vampire would do, when they couldn’t control their hunger.” Commented Anze.

“No. Asmodeus.” Muttered Ludwig, wided eyes, as he stared fixedly at the black and white picture printed on the first page. It was disturbing. A young gentleman, left in a blind alley among the trash, distorted, and all of a sudden Ludwig could imagine what had happened to the ill-fated fellow, either trampled and hailed down by a storm of blows or multilated, under which the bones were audibly shattered and the body jumped upon the roadway. “Must be him, can’t be otherwise.” He went on with shivers that trembled him, and he quickly folded the papers, didn’t give Sarah a chance to glance at it. “I saw him do this kind of thing before. Once. Didn’t expect to see it again like this.”

The count, from where he was sitting next to his sons, gave Ludwig’s several assuring head pats. “Now that our old friend’s set out headfirst to plan his revenge, our hunt for him must begin in earnest. The sooner this is over, the safer we are.”

“Should we contact the polices? They must be digging in this case already.” Asked Herbert. The count waved off:

“No, we shouldn’t. We’re no relatives of this victim fellow, if we intervene, we’ll cause ourselves more troubles from the humans, and we have no time to deal with that. However, I’ll take an eye and ear on the police department to garther any infromation possible about this case. Perhaps their investigation could give us some clues about Asmodeus’ whereabouts, or at least, his locations of operations.”

“And what if any of us encountered him during our hunt?” Asked Anze. “What kind of weapons and combat strategies do we have?”

“I don’t recommend us facing him alone, the more the better.” Returned the count. “Therefore we’re hunting in groups. If we happened to spot him, the best is to spy on him to find out his den, then report to the others. Later, we make a raid on him when he least expects.”

“Coup de main!” Commented Anze.

“Yes.” Returned the count.

“That was what I intended to do!” Ludwig slammed a fist into his other palm. The count nodded:

“About weapons, Ludwig has already completed his crossbow.”

“It’s fantastically cool!” Ludwid proudly exclaimed, cocking his eyebrows. “Being a blacksmith does help, I tell you. Now my arrows are able to pierce through his scales.”

“And what about the chemicals?” Pondered Anze. The count referred to Alfred, who immediately sank into his chair because of embarrassment:

“Alfred, your stage.” He encouraged.

“M-me…?” Stammered the young man, as he sat back up slowly. He gulfed when all eyes focused on him. “How do I start?” He cleared his throat and gave a laugh of full awkwardness. “Well…um… Let me see. I divided the realgar powder into two, one of which I saved, while the other I mixed with the Fegabit, which is basically an oxidizer, and in case you don’t know, it’s a substance that has the ability to oxidize other substances, and with realgar as a fuel these two will create a high-temperature exothermic redox chemical reaction…”

“Tut-tut! Speak vampiric, please, I beg of you.” Ludwig cut off, indicating a finger in front of Alfred’s mouth. The younger man pouted:

“Basically, mixing realgar and Fegabit can create an explosive substance.”

“Isn’t it better? And how do we make it explode?” Ludwig retreated and narrowed his eyes.

“I said I saved some of the realgar, didn’t I? It burns fiercely in the powder form, so we can use it to make fire arrows.”

“Tie the explosive substance to Asmodeus or something like that, and combust it from afar using the fire arrows.” Continued the count. Alfred nodded:

“That’s my share of the plan.”

“But how can we tie the explosive to Asmodeus?” Asked Anze again. “Doesn’t that require us to get near him?”

“The Fegabit is not in scanty amount, so the explosion won’t be small, either. Thus, we can secretly place the explosive to somewhere near him, and that would be enough.” Explained Alfred.

“We’ll discuss more detailedly about where to put the powder mixture once we’ve entered his den – if we’re lucky enough to find it, because for now that man could be dwelling in any accomodation, and we’re not certain of its interior one bit, or how many monsters he’s storing for us.” Replied the count. “By this moment we’re tracking him down at night, as well as keeping an eye on any sight of his other fledglings. That is our first step. I don’t want any of us to encounter an incident like Anze yesterday.”

“You can count on us, we stick to each other.” Assured Herbert, wrapping both arms around Sarah and Alfred. “I was the best machine gunner in army.” He winked.

“Then I do hope you handle your pistols as cleverly as your machine gun.” Said the count.

“What about me?” For the first time in the evening, Sarah broke her silence and spoke. The count asked:

“What about you, my dear?”

“What am I going to do? I mean, you, big dad, and Herbert have pistols, Alfred has his magical powder, and Ludwig has a super cool crossbow, so, what do I get? You’re not going to leave me at home, are you? Because if you are, I won’t have any of it, and you can’t stop me.” She ended with a cross of her arms. The count had to laugh:

“Worry not, Sarah, I’m not abadoning you.”

“Really?” Beamed the girl. “So I’m allowed to go as well?”

“As long as you’re under Herbert and Ludwig’s supervision, yes.” Confirmed the count. “Meet me in the business room later. Ludwig and I made something really special for you.”


	38. The nightmares before Christmas

The following days, Berlin was struck at the announcement of serial hideous murders. All the victims were either severely slaughtered or trampled, according to the sawbones, most at the age of twenty to mid-thirties, while the rest were older but still as physically healthy as the youths before they untimely passed. The residents were pitching in red hot and were wild as harpies, tales came out of the culprit’s cruelty, whispers drifted from one ear to another about a damned Perchta lurking in the dark, and hitherto it was their fear that forced them to close their doors and windows tight ealier at night, leaving the streets so cold and quiet even though it was barely nine o’clock, and it was their rage towards the polices’ heplessness that create chaos in the morning.

The small hours of daytime grew large when the Krolocks and Anze returned to their shelter, Herbert and Ludwig stared at the newspapers with clouded brows. “Last week the young student and the florist girl on No.4 Rd copped it, now the retired General’s found dead. Extremely messy and full of guts and gore.” Grimaced Herbert, crinkling his nose. “Asmodeus must be off his head.”

“He killed in several days like ten times more than the allowance of a vampire in one year.” Grumbled Ludwig.

“The thing I can’t get…” Growled the count, sighing deeply as he stepped into the parlor, “is that why he changes his subjects so abruptly.”

“Even though the missing children were not yet to be found, there’s been no more missing cases ever since his butler died.” Nodded Anze. “It can’t be as simple as a coincidence where his butler died right at the day he decided the children were not suitable for his experiments.”

“What could he do to the children, then?” Asked Herbert, slumping out of exhaustion in the armchair by the fire. It was another hunt which was not so easy of accomplishment, for Asmodeus always seemed to work on his own and numbered none of his familiar – even his butler was ashes to ashes by now, his footprints could nowhere be traced, he had never been photographed, and the few who could describe him differed widely, as common observers will.

Sarah’s face went white and she looked stricken, “What if he ate those children?”

“What?” Alfred almost choked on air.

“When I was a baby my grandmother and mother used to tell me tales about snake monsters which would hunt down small children at night to eat them. I know they’re just made-up stories to warn children not to go outside after dusk but… it really could be what happened.”

“There could be a posibilty.” Snorted the count, while Anze sought to hug himself in an attempt to calm down at such information. “The Codex doesn’t forbid us from turning human children into vampire fledglings or mention what would happen if they didn’t survive.”

“The more I think about him, the more I feel nauseous.” Winced Alfred, shifting uncomfortably. The count asked:

“Have any of you any clues yet?”

Herbert shook his head, “I met a local of our kind, friend from the army, but she said there weren’t any strangers detected. Promised to inform me if it happened to have any, though. Therefore there’s been no fledgling of that vile so far. Ludwig didn’t fare any better than me or even Alfred and Sarah who barely know anyone. People likely wouldn’t even speak to him.”

“Rude.” Bit back his brother.

“It’s been days, accept it.”

“And I went to the police station again.” Spoke the count. Anze corrected him:

“We.”

The other man was taken aback for a few seconds, then continued, “ **We** went to the police station again.” He subtly rolled his eyes. “It seems that their investigation has led to a dead end.”

“I’m worried about his plan this time. He’s been hiding so, no, too discreetly.” Concerned Ludwig. “He must be forming an army for reals.”

“There’s nothing to be sure.” Returned the count. “The murdered people are likely to be his failed experiments, due to the similar method of slaughter stormed upon them, and there’re victims almost everyday, so, it’s more likely that he’s still attempting to find the right formula to turn them. However, that’s only my assumption, we can’t look down on him. I’ll contact our few locals in order to gather anymore information, and inquire in them their help if needed.”

“Can we search for information from the Void?” Suddenly, Ludwig turned to Alfred and asked. “Lad, you can see spirits, and so does he. Can you interact with the spirits and ask them about Asmodeus?”

“I… I don’t know…” Alfred jumped and he stammered. The count raised his hand:

“It’s not a good idea, Ludwig.” His answer gave Alfred a sigh of relief. “The Void is not some place where you can enter and escape whenever you want, it’s dangerous for a new learner like Alfred. If he only switched his vision and saw it, he’d be fine, but if he interacted long enough with the creatures there, he could be trapped forever. Furthermore, spirits in the Void are mostly demons, and you’re well aware of the relationship between our kind and theirs.”

“Oh, pity.” Pouted Ludwig. “Now it’s like finding a needle in the hay.”

“I’ll plough that needle up in the whole hay of Berlin if it’s the last thing I must do, after what he’s done to us.” Gritted the count. For once, Herbert couldn’t help his laugh:

“I’ve never seen you despise anyone so terribly after ancestor Vlad.”

“Speak of him in front of my face once more and you’ll join Ludwig in cleaning the castle once we’re back home.”

.

.

Alfred hated it when he blinked and his vision changed out of sudden again, but now, he was relieved that he wasn’t so scared anymore, because he had known how to return to his world, with the attempt of just a little concentration. At this moment, he was following Herbert to their chamber, when everything flashed and went red once more.

Alfred found himself in the corridor where he was walking, but Herbert had disappeared, everything was dark and dingy and the light was flickering. Shadows were creeping upon the walls as usual, but Alfred reminded himself that as long as he didn’t stare at or talk to them, he’d be safe. Therefore the young man stood still, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, in his mind slowly but distinctly appeared the sight of his corridor where he was accompanying by Herbert’s side. It had worked, _what a bless_ , he thought, but this time when he opened his eyes and everything had turned back to normal, Alfred caught sight of a strange pair of doll shoes placed neatly in a corner.

“Alfred?”

Herbert paused and glanced back from his shoulder. Alfred blinked quickly and then rushed ahead, grabbing at Herbert’s arm, the shoes hid carefully inside his bag. “I’m here.” He brightly said.

Herbert smiled down at him, “What made you so slow?”

“I’m shorter than you, genius. I have tiny legs.” Giggled Alfred. The other man laughed in his content:

“That’s not an appropriate reason, you have super speed now!”

“Alright, alright, I was just…” Alfred shook his head, “lost in thoughts a little bit.”

“Thoughts? What were you thinking?”

“Only nonsense things.” He shrugged.


	39. Missing

The next evening Anze received a letter amongst the press, which appeared to be sent from his company. The man did carelessly cast it aside, and only came to remember it when the hours of morning were growing large. He assured his partner to go to bed before him, while he himself lit up the lamp as he went into the business room. There he examined his letter, which arrived just right at that morning through instant express transfer, written by his secretary Nathalie herself.

It was indicated in the letter that there was this conference between companies that required him to attend at any cost, Anze learnt. The event started at ten in the next morning, his secretary apologied for not being able to make an excuse for him due to the importance of it, and that was when Anze realized it was his fault not to notice the dozen voice messages which Nathalie had desperately sent him all this time.

Anze left their shelter when the sun had risen high and the whole house was at rest. The man shrugged, decided not to bother the other members when he quietly headed out, for he kept in his mind a thought that this conference was a human and personal matter of his, which had nothing to do with their current issue and would never trouble their business. Thus, he drove to his company alone, leaving Lilith with Pip whimper and stare at him until he got completely out of sight.

The conference was long and enduring, but Anze smiled throughout the whole length of it until the end when evening came. It was dusk when he briskly walked to the parking lot, when somebody called out for him from behind:

“Mr. Afanas, aren’t you?”

Anze turned around, to face a middle-aged man in formal suit, who was smiling brightly at him. The stranger man was lean but much shorter than Anze, and when he gawked up to talk, Anze’s eyes twitched a little at the abnormal golden colour of the other man’s orbs and also at the deep purple dye of his short hair. Pulling a friendly face, Anze returned:

“It’s me, and you are?”

“I’m one of your company’s customer. A big one.” He proudly declared. “It’s a pleasure to meet you today.”

“The pleasure has to be mine.” Anze offered his hand for a firm shake, which the other man returned with enthusiasm. “And your name is?”

“Asmodeus.”

Anze’s eyes twitched again. “I’ve heard about you.” He gaily said. “It was reported to me that you’re deeply interested in our company’s physics utilities. My humble regards for your trust all this time.”

“The best devices I could ever get.” Laughed out Asmodeus, squeezing the other man’s hand so hard that he had to immediately break their handshake. “The metal is long-wearing and stainless, and is thick enough to endure impacts from my experiments. You have no idea how they helped me as a physicist…” He went on with swift-tongue, but ruckus from nearby interrupted him, and Anze raised his hand as he spoke:

“May you excuse me.”

With that the man gave a halloa, took to his heels, and ran past Asmodeus to rush outside to the pavement, leaving Asmodeus with a deadly glare. Asmodeus narrowed his eyes. There, on the roadside collasped an overloaded wagon, trapped under it was an old man. Several people were surrounding the scene, but none of them could lift the wooden carriage up to help the poor fellow. Asmodeus smirked at the sight, and his smile stretched from ear to ear when Anze alone hauled the wagon’s neck over his shoulder and carried the whole thing off the ground in only one attempt.

“Is it possible for a man at your age to have such strength?”

Asmodeus asked, slowly approached when the people had stopped cheering and left, the man pretended to be in utmost surprise. Anze spunned sharply. He faked a laugh:

“Probably because I do lift.”

“You sure do have a sense of humour, sir.” Returned Asmodeus, his smile never faded that made Anze’s guts churn. “Would you like to join me for an evening walk? You did give us a good speech this evening, and I would love to discuss some business with you. A contract of some sort. About our corporation.” He suddenly sweetly invited.

It sounded phoney.

Anze waved off his hands, “I’m afraid I’m not available tonight.”

“Busy?”

“A lot of work when you run a company. But if you insist, I can settle for us another date. I’ll contact you later through the information you gave us in the receipts.”

“I see. Then I do hope we will have the chance to meet again one day.” Asmodeus bowed and put on his hat. “Have a nice evening.”

“Have a nice evening.”

With that Asmodeus swiftly turned to stagger away, his feet walked in an odd zigzag as though he was more accustomed to slither by his tail than travelling by foot. Anze had waited until the man disappeared around a corner to follow him. He lurked quietly in the shadow, keeping a distance which could be considered safe enough for his footsteps not to be heard. Asmodeus’ speed was incredible, but Anze caught up with ease, and when the streets got more and more deserted and a road sign appeared from the corner of his eyes, Anze knew they had reached the extreme northern district of the city.

Anze could feel his heart hammer hard when Asmodeus out of a sudden just disappeared. He had arrived at an abandonned entertainment park, but as he looked around, all he could see was himself, all alone with the moonlight. Yet, in the briefest of moment, he was aware of an odd light footstep drawing near. The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled out suddenly louder as they turned right behind him.

“Tut-tut, intruders pay a fee!”

That was what Anze had heard as soon as he turned around and received a knock from Asmodeus. He stumbled backwards and wiped at his nose. Stars were dancing in front of his eyes as the red liquid kept drooling from his nostrils, but when Asmodeus rush forwards to strike another blow, Anze was able to defend and strike back. He collared Asmodeus at once and lifted him up with ease, Asmodeus’ legs dangling above the ground while Anze gave his face a few good punches. Then he reached down for his pistol. But Asmodeus bent up his legs and kicked hard at Anze’s chin, forcing the man to fall onto his back, his weapon cast aside. Anze groaned and panted. Soon he was wrapped by something which felt like scales, and when he could see straight again, Anze was left stoned as he found himself captured by a giant python.

.

.

Count von Krolock bolted up with an awful headache that left him pant. It felt as though somebody was racking open his brain out, and he collasped as he attempted to stagger out of his bedroom. The noise he created had alarmed the other members, in a moment Herbert had rushed to his side to help him up, followed behind was Sarah, Ludwig and Alfred.

Herbert led his father to rest on the floor as he sat leaning against the bed post. It took the count several more seconds to regain his calm, his eyes blinked fervently, as if he didn’t see anything before him but darkness, while his body slightly twitched and trembled that gave his children fear. Herbert seized the count’s head between his palms, steadying him. “Father, can you hear me?” The young man raised his voice, gently shaking his father awake.

“Yes…” Weakly returned the count, when he slowly came to himself and the pain ebbed away. However, he looked devastated, a mixture of shock and worry painted over his face. “Something happened.” He mumbled.

“What happened?” Worried Herbert, still didn’t dare release him at all. “Are you alright?” He checked.

“Where’s Anze?” The count asked at once, his eyes darted around the room in search for the other man. His children only looked at each other and shook their heads, and before they could come up with anything, “He told me he was in the business room”, continued the count, and the man flew out of his bed chamber to rush downstairs in a hurry that nobody understood why.

The business room was empty, all tidied and neat. The count paid no care, fumbling through the stack of papers on the desk for any notes or such that the other man might have left him. He let out a groan, more like a whimper, when there was none.

“Father, may you please calm down and tell me what makes you so panic?”

Herbert’s voice rose behind him, and the count turned sharply to face his children’s worried eyes with his own sunken ones. He blinked and inhaled deeply. After another brief moment of stricken silence, he spoke, “Something has happened to Anze.”

“How do you know?” Herbert was wide-eyed.

“I can sense him.” Returned the count, his voice a husky, low tone, somewhat broken. He grabbed at the back of his skull as he spoke, “His mind, I can sense it, it’s screaming out for me… but I can’t hear it… It’s… it’s weakening.”

“His dog is still home.” Ludwig strode briskly from the parlor and pointed out, his face fell as much gravely as his father. “Old man is in trouble.”

“How can you two be so sure?” Herbert sounded restless. “He’s probably gone out for work or something?”

“No, Herbert, I entered his dream once. I can feel him now.” Said the count. “It’s not exactly the way I can talk to you through our minds, but I know he’s calling. We have to find him.”

“How do we know where to go?” Asked Alfred and Sarah, and the count looked wearily down at them.

“I don’t know. Not yet…” He sighed deeply. “But if we don’t do something right now, the consequences will be unimaginable.”


	40. Track him down

Herbert straightened himself up.

“That’s it.” Snorted he. “Tonight is the night. We’re getting all prepared and hunt him down. Asmodeus must be having Anze for reals and we have no chance to risk confronting him bare-handed.”

“Let’s separate into groups.” Went on Ludwig. “I’ll go with father. Herbert goes with Sarah and Alfred. Father’ll give Herbert’s brain a knock if we encounter any clues.”

“And vice versa.” Added Herbert.

And on they went.

By this moment, there was no need to use any normal transportation anymore, and Herbert together with his young duo of siblings had already flew off to the south of Berlin where they were going to meet Herbert’s friend, in order to ask for any information possible about Anze Afanas or Asmodeus, with Sarah and Alfred clung tightly onto the viscount. Meanwhile, Ludwig tied a leash onto Lilith and dragged her out with him. At the questioning look of his father, he explained:

“Lilith is a trained dog. Maybe if she’s going with us, she’ll be able to help us find her owner.”

The count nodded. He went on, “I phoned his office. They said he had gone home hours ago, so we’re going first to his company. Perhaps we can find some evidences from where he was last seen.”

“Let’s fly there. I’ll hold Lilith.”

At this time of night, the office building was still bustling with people running to and fro with their never-ending work. However, the front yard and the parking lot was deserted, with nothing could be seen but lamps and vehicles. Ludwig narrowed his eyes when they landed under the silhouette of a giant tree. “Isn’t that Anze’s car?” He pointed.

The familiar black Bentley was empty, left with no sight of robbery or fray. It troubled the count when he noticed footprints on the snow which led to the car, yet paused midway, before they headed outward to the pavement, followed with another set of footprints which walked in an odd zigzag. Ludwig snorted and grumbled low:

“Asmodeus must be here.”

“No one else walks like a snake like this.” Agreed the count disdainfully. Ludwig broke the car window, and “Great”, said he, as he fumbled and yanked from inside a scarf, before he handed it to Lilith. “Come on, girl, let’s see if you can find him.”

The collie wiggled at first, but at the familiar smell of her owner from the scarf, her attention was soon caught, and she sniffed it with earnest. The weather was extreme, the frost made everything even more freezing than when they had set foot at the city, causing their noses to numb, all of which enhanced Ludwig’s doubt that Lilith would succeed in detecting the other man.

However, after a few sniffs, Lilith started to find her way, leading them out to the streets, following the pavements, and then set forth northward.

At the meantime, Herbert, Sarah and Alfred had arrived in a rowdy neighborhood in the south. A warm atmostphere welcomed them immediately, and Herbert led them into a place which looked like an old medieval tavern. It was crowded, smell of wine and newly-cooked food swarmed in the air, and with the vibrant orange light, the place was a total contrast to the modern yet cold and depressed Berlin out there.

Herbert recognized somebody at once and strode across the room to them, carelessly allowed himself to sit opposite them at a table as though they were the best old friends. He beckoned the other two to join him quickly, he said:

“May I introduce to you my trusting fellow from the army, Toa! She’s been helping us all along!”

The mentioned lady looked up from her hood and gave a gesture for all of them to sit opposite her, a wide, friendly grin appeared on her face. “Glad to see you again so soon, Herbert, and my pleasure to meet you two as well! Come, have a sit.”

Sarah and Alfred in turn shook her hand and suited themselves beside Herbert, before the young viscount dug straight into their matter at hand:

“I’m afraid we can only swing by, is there any information of the issue I’ve inquired in you?”

Toa’s face fell grim and she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m afraid it’s not leading to anywhere. I’ve got my fellows scattered around Berlin for any clues, but so far I only know that your mentioned Asmodeus has no fledglings or such. He seems to be working completely on his own.”

“He once had a butler, though, a Carpathian vampire, blending perfectly among humans. She was eliminated a couple of days ago, as I told you.” Returned Herbert. Toa nodded:

“I did consider the possibility of other species who could call him their sire. However, you can count on me that that woman was the last one to ever exist in this city.”

“Have you any ideas of any places that the man would highly choose to dwell in?”

“According to what you taught me, he seems to prefer remoted, abandoned areas to normal accomdations where he has to blend in among humans. Therefore, I’ve got you a list of abandoned places in Berlin,” she handed him a paper, “which includes the Fox Sanctuary Tavern 30 miles southwards from this place, the sanatorium complex in the east at this address, the Chemical Factory in Rüdersdorf, and an unnamed theme park located in the north whose address I’ve indicated here for you as well. I already made sure for you about the Fox tavern early this evening, but the rest of the list, I’m afraid, is your work.”

Herbert frowned as he studied the paper Toa gave him. Their time was running out, and they couldn’t just check on every single place. A muffled squeak interrupted his thoughts and startled them all, which made Alfred hurry to check on his bag. The young man wided his eyes:

“Pip?”

“You brought her here?” Sarah raised her voice.

“I didn’t!” Protested Alfred. “She must have sneaked into my bag!”

“We don’t have time returning her home, can you make sure she’ll be safe during this trip?” Grimly asked Herbert. Alfred nodded, putting back his woolen hat on:

“You can count on me. But may you allow me a minute, I believe I have to fetch her some food before we depart again. I’ll be quick.”

“Of course, just make sure you’ll return here not too late.” Approved Herbert with a faint smile.

“There’s a snack stall right at the left corner, in case you need it.” Piped in Toa, waving goodbye as Alfred exited through the crowd. The young man shouted a brief “Thank you”, and then he vanished, emerging into the darkness outside the tavern.

Alfred found no difficulty finding the food stall to purchase some roasted peanuts for Pip. When he opened his bag to hand the pack of nuts to her, unfortunately, the animal perked her ears and jumped out of his arms, dangling around her body was a white soft waistband weaved from wool which Alfred had never seen before. The young man even noticed that the animal was snapping up the strange pair of shoes he found back in their shelter.

Alfred had run. He chased Pip through cramped alleys of the neighborhood and cornered her in a dead end. The whimsicality in her behaviors wavered when their eyes aligned, and Pip revealed from behind her, there was a glittering necklace laid on the ground.

“What have you found, girl?” Whispered Alfred to Pip, as he collected the waistband and picked up the necklace. Pip only whimpered and stared at him. The flowery patterns on the two accessories matched perfectly, and Alfred believed they both had to belong to a set of outfit, together with the doll shoes. And it dawned on him that every time he ran into a clothes accessory of sort, it had been travelling upwards, for instant, first was the pair of shoes which was worn on the feet, then up to the waistband around the hip, and now, the necklace. Alfred stared at the bundle in his hands with unbelieving eyes. If he happened to run into anything again, it had to be a headwear of sort!

The world around Alfred flickered again. The man fell to his haunches as the abrupt change around him, as he looked up from where he was sitting, a veil headscarf was blown in the wind in the deep red sky, and something unknown pricked inside him, telling him that he had to follow it.

Alfred rose to his feet and ran. He chased the headscarf with an invisible purpose, until the wind stopped blowing, and the headwear landed on a tree. Alfred cursed to himself. He hated climbing.

It took the young man several struggling attempts to reached the cursed object. He swallowed hard when the branch wobbled under his weight, a cracking sound made his heart jump, and in a blink of an eye, Alfred found himself fell flat onto the ground so painfully.

“Urg…”

Alfred moaned as he helped himself up. The parallel world didn’t have seasons, therefore, there was no snow, but only dust and sand under him and a constant scorching air, causing him an ache along his spine and around his hip. It was a relief he was still able to stand up, Alfred thought to himself. The next thing he worried about, was that all the objects he found had scattered everywhere during his fall, and now, they had vanished.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Muttered Alfred, and he decided to give up about the whole outfit thing. He closed his eyes in an attempt to return to his world. But this time when he opened his eyes…

Nothing changed.

Alfred could hear his heart hammer in his chest. He closed his eyes again, and, “focus, focus…” he thought, but everytime he opened his eyes, the world around him was still tinted with redness, leaving him alone in the middle of a devastated ground, and howlings from distance were freezing him with shivers running through his body. Alfred thought he might weep. He darted his eyes fervently for any evidences of life, or any undead just like him, or probably Beghemot so he could ask for some help.

But in the end, there was only him.

Alfred couldn’t help recalling the night when he lost his professor in the middle of a winter storm, in a foreign land where nobody knew who he was and nobody would remember him if he was ever found dead in the middle of nowhere. The young man immediately collasped to the ground and sought to shake himself, wishing this was only a nightmare and he would wake up again in his familiar bed, as he pulled his knees close and pressed them against him. Alfred sniffed, but he couldn’t cry.


	41. Ghost

Alfred’s heart seemed to stop pumping when he heard footsteps. The sound was so small, the movement was light, as if the person was almost flying, and as every second came by, the footsteps drew swiftly nearer and nearer, until Alfred knew, they stopped right in front of him.

Alfred gawked up to the sight of a lady in white. She was pale, her hair was bright and her almond eyes were piercing sharp, all of which could make anyone think of Death herself. The young man immediately stumbled backwards and crawled away, until he couldn’t go any further when his back pressed against a brick wall. He shut his eyes tight and whimpered prayers in his throat, absolutely no sound escaped from him. He wasn’t ready to confront any demons of the Void!

But the lady didn’t do anything to him and only stepped forwards. Alfred could sense that she knelt before him and observed, and wouldn’t one bit until he dared open his eyes again and faced her. Alfred didn’t know he was trembling, when the lady only smiled brightly and put a finger against her lips.

_Don’t be scared._

A gentle voice seeped into his mind. Alfred’s eyes blown wide and he trembled even more, not knowing what was happening to him. Then, to his perifying fear, the lady reached out her hands and took hold of his head, keeping him in place. Her skin was cold, but her gesture was tender, and her smile never faded from her lips, all of which steadied Alfred and locked him with her gaze, even though he was still frightened to the grave.

_I’m not going to hurt you._

The voice rose inside his head again, and now Alfred believed it belonged to the lady in front of him. He almost opened his mouth to ask, but she was in time and placed her finger against his lips, stopping him, and, “Hush, I’m not from here, just like you. You won’t want any of **them** to notice us, do you?”, her voice rang from the back of his mind again.

Reluctantly, Alfred nodded. The lady grinned warmly at him, like a mother gazing fondly at her little son, when she finally released Alfred. The young man gulfed nothing in his dry throat and blinked. Only at this moment did he realize, the lady was wearing the doll shoes, the waistband, the necklace, and the headscarf that he had found earlier.

The outfit which she wore was of Romanian women centuries ago, Alfred had learnt. Only when Alfred had regained his calm, the lady stood up, her manner was always so elegant. Her voice crept into his mind again, and, _I’m here to help you_ , said she, a look of firm affirmative on her face. Alfred couldn’t but thinking to himself, as he rose to his feet and boldly staggered towards her:

_But why? And how?_

_To explain at this moment, I believe, is not convenient for both of us, for my time in this void is not eternal. However, you will learn, my child, in time.”_ Assured the lady, even though she never opened her mouth one bit. She paced around and finally turned her back to Alfred. Her voice went on, _For now_ , t _he abandonned park in the north is where you need to go._.. _Herbert has already got the address. Hurry, child, the clock is tickling._

_But who are you? How do you… Wait!_

Alfred screamed in his mind when the lady’s figure wavered and vanished into thin air. The world around him shattered once more. In a blink of an eye he had returned, Alfred almost shouted in mere happiness and jumped, when the ground beneath him was again covered with snow and Pip was staring at him from a random lampost.

“But who are you?” Alfred finally breathed out his words, a look of genuine concern on his face. He frowned in curiosity when under his feet now laid an enveloped on which written only a few words in ancient cursives – _to my beloved Johannes_. There was nothing more, not even an address, hidden inside it was a letter which Alfred decided not to peek at all.

The young man kept troubling himself about the lady’s identity, and it was dawned on him when he realized…

She knew of Herbert.

And most importantly, Herbert looked just like her.

Everything, from her appearance and her fear of the Void, as well as her good intention and the name Johannes on the letter started to make sense, and Alfred at once hurled Pip into his bundle of a bag and dashed back to the tavern, almost tripped over on the snow and ice. His shout alarmed Sarah and Herbert who were waiting by the threshold, and the young man crashed into them when he tried to stop in a haste.

“Anze is in the abandoned park in the north!” Announced Alfred immediately, didn’t even have time to gasp for air, forcing Herbert to remember the address and inform his father. Sarah wided her eyes:

“But how do you know?”

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain later, but now we have to go! Go, go, go, go!”


	42. Lost and found

It was torture when Anze came back to himself, with his head ached horribly and his whole body sore. He opened his eyes to a strange room with flickering sick yellow lights, in his blurry vision slowly appeared the figure of someone bending over their working desk. Anze tried to lift himself. He couldn’t.

It was that moment the man realized he had been trapped, bound in some sort of hideous machine. His eyes blown wide at the revelation and he struggled, but however much he did, he couldn’t break free.

“Save your strength for later, you’ll need it.”

Hissing, sour voice alarmed Anze. By the desk stood Asmodeus, perfectly in his human form, carefully observing his new victim. Anze’s irises shrank into two slits at the sight of Asmodeus’ fangs, when the mentioned man sank them into a glass and squeezed from his own mouth some sort of disgusting green liquid. Anze felt his guts churn.

Asmodeus mixed his venom with some other chemicals which no one knew what, before filling the combination into an injection needle. Anze wriggled even more frenziedly when the other man approached him, but he couldn’t know why it came to be impossible for him now to escape a simple trap. Asmodeus looked beyond amused, a savage laugh vibrated from his throat when he prepared the injection next to Anze. Anze glared down and grumbled:

“I’ll have your head once I’ve got out of this.”

“Sure, I’ll wait.” Giggled he. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about your friend’s whereabouts?”

“I have no friends.” Snarled Anze. Asmodeus only yanked his head back as he laughed:

“Don’t play pretend or even act hero with me, I know so well that you consort with that vile of a von Krolock. So, tell me, where is he?”

“Why should I tell you?” Anze cockily asked. “Will you release me? Do I have any compensation?”

“I’m afraid not, just wanting to kill the time through chatting! Thinking that you would be a fun tool to amuse me, you know.” Chuckled Asmodeus with a baring grin. “I already have what I want here.” His eyes glittered as he oberserved the other man up and down, and he went on with an approving hiss, “You look really much of a potential experiment for me. Now, it’s only a matter of time until Count von Krolock comes here to find you. By that time, I’ll have had the chance to return his debt.”

“He doesn’t owe you anything.”

“Oh, but he does!” Smirked Asmodeus, stepping closer, leaning against the other man. “I’m quite surprised that you don’t know about what’s going on between him and me. Or are you pretending not to know?”

“You guess.” Grinned Anze, his voice hoarse. Asmodeus pouted and gave a shake of his head:

“No, I’m afraid I have no time for guessing game. Though, you’re here, and that’s all that matters.” Another laugh escaped his throat, and from the corner of his eyes, Anze could notice the sharp tip of the injection needle again. Asmodeus needn’t put a single finger to keep his victim in place, and, “Relax, it’ll only sting a little bit. Like an ant’s bite”, said he, before injected his venom mixture into Anze’s blood.

Anze’s shook and his arm hurt where Asmodeus pierced through him. When the last drop of venom went into his veins, the last of Anze’s scanty strength left him, leaving him slump with descending heaves from his chest, his lips parted in a weak attempt to gasp for air. His eyes were watered after a few second, and he could see straight no more. His ears felt as if they were stuffed with wool, yet, he could still hear Asmodeus’ audible smirk.

“Yes, perfect.” Hissed Asmodeus, as he placed the metal plates of his machine upon Anze’s skin, when the other man could only lay motionless. Tiny needle tips from the plates tingled his skin, alarmed him, his mind was yelling at him to struggle more fiercely and run, but Anze just couldn’t, not when the light under his eyes was leaving him. And that was it, Anze allowed Asmodeus to continue his triffling experiment, enabling his machine. The machine closed its doors and trapped Anze completely, the metal plates inside fully pressed upon the man’s skin, and Asmodeus began to inject even more chemicals into his victim’s body.

Anze howled to the top of his lungs.

.

.

Count von Krolock and Ludwig came to a halt when Lilith could detect smell no more. They had already reached a distant area, where nothing could be seen but dark, devastated buildings and lamplights, but for now, the collie pup kept pacing around and around. Ludwig turned a dreadful frown to his father, which was soon returned, before the count decided to let himself kneel before Lilith.

“I’m sorry, pup.” Muttered the count, mostly to himself, when he took hold of Lilith and stared into her innocent, amber eyes. “I’m afraid we’ve lost him.” His lips formed a thin line. His sigh was loud in the middle of the deep dark night, and it troubled Ludwig even more to see him give up so fast like that. The young man began:

“Don’t be so full of gloom, father, Herbert hasn’t contacted us yet.”

“You’re right…” Whispered the count, as he rose back to his feet. “But I can’t help myself, Ludwig, his voice, it’s… it’s completely snuffed out.”

“Don’t strain yourself too much. It’s better if we can keep our heads out of sorrow at this moment.”

“I’m more of furious right now, honestly speaking.” The count formed his lips thin and his eyes twitched. “I’ve never met any rival who’s gone this far.”

“If anything happened to Anze I’d make sure Asmodeus pay hard.” Gritted Ludwig, hands curling into fists as he assured the other man. The count, though reluctantly, nodded, and then, out of a sudden, he froze.

Ludwig was alarmed by the motionlessness of his father, when his eyes starred into nothing, but before the younger man could speak up, the count blinked, and heavily, yet quickly, he announced, “Herbert has found the place.”

Eventually, they came to a theme park which located a far cry from the very few residents of northern Berlin, Herbert and his youngers arrived a few minutes after the count and Ludwig. Alfred helped created a magical shield to keep Pip and Lilith safe and sound outside. Count von Krolock gave his children a nod and checked out on them, before they all entered the forgotten park. Herbert scanned his eyes around, as he briskly walked abreast with his father, he asked:

“Can you sense him?”

“Yes.” Hummed the count, but his voice was much of a serious tone instead of amusing. He craned his head like a crow and said, “He’s waking, but absolutely silent.”

“Good thing he’s still alive.” Piped in Ludwig from behind. “Can you detect where he is?”

“No, unfortunately not.” The count shook his head. “We have to plough this place up.”

“Should we separate?” Asked Sarah and Alfred. The count firmly declared:

“No.”

“Well, I think **that** is the place.” Announced Herbert, pointing to a building from afar, from which a single room was lit up among darkened ones.

“Such eyes of a gunner.” Chuckled Ludwig. Herbert couldn’t resist a grin.

And on they went.

The building they entered was too devastated to be recognized what people used to do with, when by now there was nothing left inside but very few broken furniture, rocks, bricks, and dust. The silence was deafening. A poisonous, oppressive feeling washed over them, tainted the whole space yet tugging them from the back of everyone’s mind. Fear twisted in the youngests’ chests when intangible footsteps and whispers drifted from above the ceiling, and the higher the climbed, the more distinct the sound became. The stairs seemed to strectch endlessly, but at one point, the distasteful voice of Asmodeus rang through the air:

“Ah, ah, ah, the guests have finally arrived.” He even gave some giggles. “Just as I’m expecting.”

“Enough with the hide and seek, show yourself!” Shouted the count, only to receive a savage, insane laugh.

“I’m afraid I’m quite busy keeping your friend company at this moment.”

The count went mad at the mention of Anze, “Release him, now! What have you done to him?”

Asmodeus only tutted, “Oh, this thing, that thing… I took what I wanted, and in return, I gave him so much more! But I’m sad to say that releasing him is what you’ll have to do yourselves. He’s waiting for you.”

“You’d better watch out for your head if he’s hurt even a strand of hair!”

“So impatient, aren’t you? Then you should hurry up. Your friend is having a very hard time keeping himself in one piece.”

And with another laugh full of madness Asmodeus’s voice faded away. From now on the five of them could already seen light emitted from a large room upstairs, without any further ado and with a grumbling growl, the count took a great leap and yanked open the door.

Asmodeus was nowhere to be found in that room. There was sight of his work remained on a desk, and a bizzare machine at the far end of the room. The machine let out short, sizzling sound and smoke when its door loose opened. The count narrowed his eyes. His children arrived just in time to witness the same thing, and then, from the thick, white smoke, appeared Anze.


	43. Brute

A cry followed when Anze went fully into their sight, almost half naked with his shirt all torn off like drags. He reeled, staggered in a convulsive fit, starring at them with wide, souless eyes, gasping with an opened mouth. There had come a change, he seemed to swell, his face became crooked with fury and his features seemed to alter and grow twice bigger, from the joints of his arms his skin peeled, baring the throbbing muscles. He tilted his head to a twisted angle when he noticed the presence of the intruders, and instantly, with blazing red eyes and fangs out, he growled like an animal and lurched forwards.

Count von Krolock immediately pulled out his pistol and aimed without hesitation at Anze when Herbert and Ludwig flew from his sides and launched themselves at the other man. Anze roared when the bullets hit his shoulders and the two young men pinned him on the floor, but with ease, he collared each of them with his hands and threw them away like discarding an object, resulting in Herbert and Ludwig flying a few good meters and landing hard when their backs hit the wall. Like a wild beast Anze leaped forwards again and almost trampled the count, trapping him under his weight as he tried to tear the younger man’s neck with his claws. Asmodeus’ laugh rang out again from up high:

“Welcome to my Escape Room. Meet my masterpiece, and I do hope you enjoy your good time! Afanas, tear them apart! Leave nothing!”

Ludwig snorted at that laugh and he aimed his crossbow at the beastlike Anze. An arrow went through his neck and a kick to his chin from the count stopped him, forcing him onto his haunches and giving him a bleeding nose, but only after a few brief seconds, Anze turned his head like an owl and pulled the arrow out himself, before brandishing his claws and fangs at Ludwig.

Herbert scrambled to his father’s side when the count tried to turn himself on the floor. The wrestling with Anze had given him a horrible scratch on his stomach already, tearing his flesh with a claw mark which looked like it belonged to a bear. Ludwig had to join them after knocking his crossbow upon Anze’s head, which only helped fuel the man’s rage and he flung towards them like a mad bull. Instantly, another strike on his head forced him onto the ground, with enough force to break the tiles, revealing Sarah who had just attacked him from behind with her war hammer.

The girl triumplantly grinned. But her grin melted and disappeared when Anze slowly stood up and turned back to face her, and the girl gulfed when the man could easily just step on her like an ant with a height which was three times hers like that. Anze raised his arm. Sarah flung her hammer once more in defense, but was soon grabbed by the handle and the man pulled her up.

Count von Krolock’s face twisted at the sight and he flew at incredible speed to stop Anze. He landed on the man’s back, seized him by his shoulders and pulled, all the meantime Herbert pushed Sarah to a safer place and Ludwig helped his father with his daggers impaling Anze’s thigh. The man let out a primal howl and staggered backwards, in his reeling he stumbled to the wall and bashed the count – who was still on his back – into it, causing the count to fall flat on the floor.

Alfred, from all this time, had been watching the battle with both amaze and petrifying fear. The young man’s eyes laid upon the desk of Asmdeus, on the remaining of his work and papers, and then to the machine from which escaped that monstrous Anze, and it flicked in his clever mind that he had to find an antidote of sort.

Alfred sneaked deeper into the room in the middle of the fray, didn’t pay attention to Sarah’s whisper “Stop!” or the girl’s tug on his sleeves. He squeaked when a chair flew towards him as Anze was throwing a tantrum, almost tripped during his way and he stumbled upon the stack of papers and books on Asmodeus’ desk. There, laid the final design of the transformation machine, Alfred found, all together with several jars of chemicals. “Watch out!” Herber’s shout alarmed him, when Anze dragged both the count and Ludwig as though they were nothing like rag-dolls, spinning and tossing them away, the count almost flew out of the window while Ludwig landed on the broken furniture next to Alfred. The young man gave a yelp before hurling everything he could from the desk and jumped back outside, hurrying himself and Sarah to hide under a table in the corridor.

“What are you doing?” Asked Sarah, voice husky like a whisper, as she stared with unbelieving eyes at the bundle Alfred had collected. The young man turned the books in his hands fervently, he returned:

“Trying to find a cure, of course!”

“Do you think Asmodeus is dumb enough to leave you a formula?” Sarah raised her voice, nearly yelled out when the brick wall behind them began to crack due to the impact from the other side. Alfred grinned wide at a page, and he turned it to Sarah, his voice turned a cocky slur:

“He’s not dumb, but he’s arrogant enough.”

“Well then lucky us, I guess.” Said Sarah shortly, peering inside to take a peak of what was happening. The three men had run out of bullets, Ludwig could not use up his arrows, either, and they decided to fight Anze with only their strength. It was not a sight to behold, Sarah feared. Anze’s whole body heaved with unsuppressed rage, and he was at the count in an instant, seized him by his neck and lifted him up in the air. Herbert and Ludwig rushed in to help their father, but a careless backhand from Anze was all it took to send them back so hard they bashed into each other before finally crashed through a wall. Sarah squeaked profusely at Alfred, “It doesn’t look very good, I have to help them!”

Alfred tended to stop her, “No, wait-”, said he, but the girl had already got out of reach.

Alfred cursed to himself. He could not fight, creating an antidote was the only thing he could do at this moment. He wanted to squawk, his blood was pumping loudly in his ears when he heard the primal scream Sarah let out when she attacked Anze, and then a thump showed that the girl had received the same thing with the other men. Alfred fumbled through the chemicals, measured out a few minims of the crimson tincture and added the only powder he found into the mix. The mixture, which was at first of a reddish hue, began, in proportion as the crystalic powder melted, to brighten in colour, to effervesce audibly, and to throw off small fumes of vapour so much that it made Alfred nearly choke. Soon, the bubbles ceased and the compound changed to a dark purple, which faded again more slowly to a colder hue. For the briefest of moment, Alfred allowed himself a pleasant smile when the mixture colour turned into a shade of bright blue, just as he expected. Carefully, he poured the mixture into one of the small tubes he found on the desk and sealed it. Now what he worried about, was that there was still one substance he lacked.

Asmodeus’ venom.


	44. To beat a snake by its head

Alfred bit his nails in nervosity. He didn’t want to face Asmodeus alone, not at all, but when he peered inside and witnessed what was happening, he knew it had to be now or never and everything they did would be in vain. The fear inside him was trifled and slowly, yet firmly, turned into anger at the thought of his family suffering just because of one man, and in an instant, Alfred crawled out of his hiding spot.

Asmodeus’ voice was last heard from above. But it didn’t make sense, because they were already on the highest floor of the building. Alfred darted his eyes and scanned for any sight of a way which could let them to the rooftop. When he saw that there was none, Alfred closed his eyes.

The world around him was forced to change.

This time when Alfred opened his eyes, he was not surprised anymore at the red, gloomy world around him, even though that he would admit, he was still a bit frightened. There, right at where the stairs were supposed to end in his real world, now placed a ladder, leading to an attic.

Alfred rushed upstairs. He paused midway, when there was this oppressive feeling washed over him, the feeling of being watched. Alfred swallowed hard and glanced up at the corridor above. At the edge of his peripheral vision, two golden orbs which glowed in the dark like fireballs were staring attentively at him, making Alfred squirm. Asmodeus gave a crooked grin, as he kept standing there in one place, eyeing down at Alfred as though he was a prey, or more like another interesting sample for his ferocious experiments. The older man even raised his brows, as though he was daring Alfred to come closer and face him, for he knew so well that the young man would not simply run away.

“A fascinating little creature, aren’t you?” Purred Asmodeus when both of them now were on the same floor. He circled Alfred with amusement glittered from his eyes, though still kept himself a good distance from the younger man, his slit tongue stuck out with pleasant hisses. “I didn’t expect any of you to be able to enter the Void, let alone confronting me here in this realm.” All the meantime he laughed to himself. “Oh… and look at you, tiny and meek. You won’t be able to last ten seconds if I fight you. However, I think I’ll spare your pathetic life this time. You can be much of a useful apprentice for me in the future, don’t you think so?”

Alfred didn’t respond. Shadows were creeping on the floor and the walls as always, but now Alfred was far more concerned about the other man who strode even closer to him. He fought not to shake, but he doubt he didn’t tremble. Asmodeus gave him an expectant look.

“So?” Grinned he, a grin too wide and friendly. “Don’t be shy or let me do all the talking.”

Still, Alfred only glared. He clutched tighter onto his bag, trying to compose himself when Asmodeus now had stopped right beside him. His hair stood on end when the man’s hand grasped at the back of his neck.

“Still a little stubborn, aren’t you?” Asmodeus stared menancingly down at his prey. “Let see if I could convince you, then. You see, you’re a very potential apprentice already, with your flexibilty so far, and even your cleverness. Meanwhile, I’ve been a scientist all my life. I can guarantee that your abilities will be nutured and developed even more, you’ll become bigger, greater, even famous when you travel with me. Isn’t that much better than staying in that pile of rocks which they call a castle?”

“…”

“A shy little mouse, I see.” Hummed Asmodeus, leaning closer. “But that’s fine, only a nod from you would do. A nod from you, a bite from me, and you’re free to change your side.”

Rumbling voice by his ears forced Alfred to turn his head and stare straight into Asmodeus’ eyes. The man’s face twisted horribly, his fangs out, and Alfred knew it was time he fought back. His hand sought quickly into his bag and pulled out a random book, and before Asmodeus could attack him, Alfred shoved the book without any hesitation into the man’s mouth.

Asmodeus immediately howled and released Alfred. The young man gave him a good kick to his lower abdoment, forcing him into his knees, and then the hybrid received a punch to the top of his skull as a bonus. While Asmodeus was still reeling and his fangs were still stuck in the book, Alfred gave his head another slam, with enough force so his teeth pierced through the pages and emerged from the book cover. Asmodeus’ scream had attracted the shadows, as they retreated from the walls to pool around them, Alfred hurried to squeeze venom from Asmodeus’ fangs into his tube when the man had not yet gained back his consciousness.

Then he fled.

Alfred shouted to the top of his lungs once he’d returned to his world, dashing right into the heating fray between Anze and the other people. The young man jumped and held out his tube of bright blue chemical and brightly announced, “I’ve got the antidote!”

“The what?” Breathed out Ludwig, dodging another punch from Anze. His brief moment of distraction almost got him hauled over into the air, before the count launched at Anze, the two men craning their heads to bite at each other. Alfred repeated:

“The antidote! The cure! I need you to drag him back into the machine over there! This will help him back to normal!”

“Got it!”

Herbert gave a thumb up, a flash of optimism painted over his face despite the blood washed over him and his dishivelled outfit. He leaped onto Anze’s shoulders, impaling two daggers into the bare flesh, then with all his strength, Herbert pulled. As Anze staggered backwards, the count flew at great speed and butted at him, sending him back into the opened machine which Sarah and Ludwig had just prepared. Alfred rushed to their sides, applying the antidote while the others tried their best to hold Anze in place. The man roared and screeched, his tossing and wriggling inside the machine gave Alfred a feeling that the machine would bust in no long time. But to their relief, eventually, when Alfred pressed the enabling-button, the man’s cries died down, leaving only the sizzling sound emitted from the cables.

“No! No! No! Why can’t you ever just die?”

Asmodeus’ voice roared again from above and he landed through the ceiling, leaving up there a hole so big they could see clearly the night sky. Everyone stared. In front of their eyes stood Asmodeus neither in his human nor his naga form, but a giant python which was glaring menancingly. The count asked Alfred at once:

“How much time do we get until Anze turn back to normal?”

“It’s estimated to be fifteen minutes.” Returned Alfred, watching attentively at the monitor screen. “But I need more time to learn how to control this thing, and the hardwares need fixing after so much impact. Maybe another half an hour would do.”

Ludwig nodded:

“That’s less time than I expected. Good. We can keep him at bay til then.”

Wiping off the drop of blood on his chin, Ludwig finally brought his crossbow into action and aimed at Asmodeus. The python slithered and flunged at him, but the arrowed was shot just in time and pierced through his eye. He writhed madly, the hissing he released was savage. Ludwig grinned to himself. “Now we’re even, you motherfuck.”

Asmodeus snarled and flailed his tail across the room. The count and Herbert caught it and steered to another way, in order to keep Alfred and his machine safe, only to get themselves hurled into the air and plunged through the floor, ploughing up the tiles and bricks after their fall. The arrow was still pinning in the python’s eye socket, dark blood dripped from it and pooled everywhere across the room, several more arrows were pinning along his sides, but it didn’t prevend the monster from attacking more furiously. The count somehow found a crowbar in the middle of the battlefield of crumbles and dust, he snatched it up and leaped into the air, where he used it to smash upon Asmodeus’ head, with enough force to break the crowbar into pieces and tear off the first layer of Asmodeus’ keeled scales. A whip from behind tore the count’s back, causing him to lose his balance when flying in the air, and in a second the count was sent bashing into Herbert as Asmodeus used his tail to flail at him. Ludwig aimed at Asmodeus’ other eye, but this time when the arrow was flying halfway, Asmodeus was fast enough to bat it away with his tail. The next second he blinked, Ludwig found himself squeezed tight by Asmodeus.

“Look what you’ve done to my masterpiece! You ruined it, all of you!” Howled Asmodeus again, when the machine door opened and Anze collasped, his body returned to his former features. Sarah and Alfred scrambled to his side and helped him to a corner, while Asmodeus was not very pleased at all and he decided to vent his fury onto Ludwig. His squeeze got tighter, and he hissed as he hurled the young man up in the air:

“Then I’ll ruin you in return. I’ll crush you, you ungrateful bastard, and then your damnable pack you call a family!”

At that final shout of his enemy Ludwig tossed his weapon down to Herbert, who received it quickly and successfully shot another arrow through Asmodeus’ fine eye. The python immediately writhed and released Ludwig, who fell flat onto the floor with a thud, almost motionless. The count rushed to his side and dragged him to sit next to Anze.

“Ludwig, Ludwig, can you hear me?” The count profusely asked, stroking his son’s face. The young man weakly grinned:

“I’m fine, it’s just… I think my ribs are broken.” He ended with a grimace and a choked moan.

“Hush, don’t let yourself worked up. You've already done very well.” Assured the count, wiping off the blood and dirt on Ludwig’s forehead and cheeks. “Just stay here, I’ll take care of the rest.”

A dagger from Herbert was batted by Asmodeus and flew towards them without anyone noticing. Except Anze. The man just opened his eyes, and in a second and like a flash, he reached up to cover the count and caught the blade with his bare hand. “Take care of the rest, you say?” He finally spoke.

However grateful the count was, he just wanted to punched that shameless grin off Anze’s face. Had there been the briefest of moments for a little chit-chatting, but then, Herbert shouted:

“People, I need some help here!”

Now blind, Asmodeus grew even more ferocious, and he flailed at every single sound he could get to, almost trampled Herbert under his weight and crushed him into pieces. Herbert scrambled to the others’ side, he gasped:

“I’ve only one arrow left. I need someone to keep him in place and spray the powder.”

“I can do it. But I need an assistant.” Returned Alfred firmly.

“I can help you.” Said Sarah. “Lead the way, genius.”

With a nod, Alfred handed Herbert his share of realgar powder. Then he snatched up some of the broken pipes and beckoned Sarah to follow him, sneaking closer to Asmodeus. The python hissed again:

“I maybe blind, but I can still hear you mice!”

“Then you’d better hunted the right mouse!” Herbert’s voice rose from another direction, misleading the other man with purpose, while Alfred gave an approving smile before walking on. Without warning, he smashed the pipes onto Asmodeus’ tail, breaking his scales and impaling his flesh, forcing him into a hissing fit and dark blood began to spurt out from the wounds. Being blind seemed to enhance his other senses, resulting in Asmodeus’ hisses becoming more and more maddening due to his pain.

“Sarah, strike down! Now!” Yelled Alfred, and the girl obliged, piercing the big metal pipes through Asmodeus’ body with every blow of her hammer.

Alfred sprayed the mixture of realgar and Fegabit around Asmodeus’ tail, and quickly, the duo fled from where they just pinned the python tight on the floor, like a worm on the operating table. They clung onto Herbert as the man flew into the sky, the count joined them with Anze and Ludwig held onto him as well, and through the hole on the rooftop, Herbert shot his fire arrow.


	45. Peace of mind

The cheery fire landed on Asmodeus soon caught the powder and everything went ablaze, followed with an explosion like fireworks, the sound of the detonation was deafening enough to muffle Asmodeus’ scream in agony. Poisonous smoke billowed from the devastated building below, but none of the vampires had to worry about that. They watched all together with delight, especially Ludwig, relish in the dramatic, tragic end of their enemy, and only landed down when the explosion reduced into small flames.

The count placed Ludwig onto his lap when he sat on the floor. “How do you feel? Do you need blood?” Asked he, checking on his son’s wounds.

“Still ‘alive’… I think that’s enough.” Choked out Ludwig, staring up at the other man. Somehow he felt pleasant, strangely pleasant despite the throbbing pain and the aching bruises, and he smiled back. “Still can not move, though. I guess you’ll have to piggyback me home.”

“Let father rest, I can piggyback you.” Piped in Herbert, as he wandered around. Ludwig glared at him and snorted:

“Rest assured, you will never find me piggybacking on your narrow shoulders.”

“The more you get, the more you want.” Huffed Herbert, turning away. Alfred asked from where he had helped Sarah steady herself:

“So… Asmodeus’ really dead by now, isn’t he?” He gave a careless shrug. “Just asking.”

Anze and Herbert walked among the crumbles, and together they rolled over a block of solid brick. “He’s ashes to ashes by now.” Chuckled Herbert, staring down at a dry burnt corpse which could no more be seen to be human. Anze picked up a random sharp piece of metal, and he staked it through the corpse’s heart.

“Just in case.” Said he.

“You have a piece of glass on your back.” Spoke up the count, eyeing at Anze. The older man yelped and fumbled to check on himself, but Herbert had done it first for him, and the young man pulled the piece of glass out without any warning.

“That hurt, you know.” Winced Anze as he shuddered, and ‘ouch’, he let out another groan when Herbert slapped him by his biceps as the young man walked by. The count raised his brow and smirked:

“Wait until you see the scratches you left on my stomach.”

“It looks like father has wrestled with dinosaurs.” Piped in Ludwig with a grin. Anze scratched his head and averted his eyes.

“But you attacked me as well. Let’s call this is fair play.”

“Whose fault was it that we had to fight you?” Teased the count with a shake of his head. “Serve you right.”

“Oh, yeah, you should have seen father’s face when he pulled out his pistol and aimed at you!” Laughed out Ludwig this time. “Determined, cold and emotionless. Looked just like that movie when the actor pulled out his gun and said, ‘I won’t hesitate, bitch!’”

“Language, Ludwig.” Warned the count. Ludwig only pouted. He was too tired to talk back at this moment.

“I’m grateful that you all decided to keep me alive.” Said Anze. The count waved his hand:

“You should thank Alfred. Had it not been thanks to him you would still be a brute monster by now, and yes, I’m afraid I would have to stake you in that case.”

Alfred wanted to blush at the compliment. He fervently shook his hands. “Please don’t look at me like that, I just did what I should and what I was able to!”

“Oh, but sweetheart, you truly was a hero!” Praised Herbert, hugging and rubbing the other man’s hair. He even placed a kiss on top of Alfred’s head, making the younger man feel as though he might explode out of embarrassment. Sarah giggled and joined them:

“What about me? Am I a hero, too?”

“Of course!” Exclaimed Herbert, pulling her into a warm group hug. “You were very brave! And you looked striking with your hammer! You’ve made this trying journey very enjoyable, sister.”

“As heartwarming as this is,” broke in the count, repressing an exhausting sigh, “I believe we should head back home. The sun will be up in a couple of hours.”

“What about Asmodeus?” Pondered Anze. “You can’t drag him to court since’s he obviously dead. So what’s your plan?”

“I’m still keeping evidences about his wrongdoings upon us. The trial will still be fine without him, though it would be a little more difficult to handle. I’ll leave to confront the Dark Council by tomorrow night.”

“Do you need anyone to accompany you?” Concerned Herbert. The count gave a faint smile:

“Probably only Ludwig is fine…” he looked down onto his lap. “And… the boy is asleep.”

.

.

The long night with so many events had made Alfred ache to the bones and he only wanted to sleep right away. However, as soon as he had taken his bath and changed into his new, warm clothes, the young man happened to remember the letter he kept inside his bag.

While Herbert was still enjoying himself in the bathroom with his night routine, Alfred went to the study.

To his expectation, Count von Krolock was still there, bending over his papers. Yet, as the man studied their contents, Alfred could see his brows knitted close no more, and with a happy voice, Alfred cleared his throat and greeted his father, and also Anze who was arranging documents by his side.

“Oh, hello Alfred.” Looking up the count from where he was sitting by his desk, his hands were still turning the pages. “It’s really late. Whatever is the matter?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, thank you for asking.” Meekly smiled Alfred, as he struggled to find to right word to say. “However, father, there’s one thing has been troubling me.”

“Then let’s hear it.” Encouraged Anze. But Alfred mumbled and he looked a little scared:

“But I’m afraid I can only speak to father here.” He eyed at the count, before glancing quickly at Anze. “It’s a little… private.”

“Oh, I see!” Exclaimed Anze, didn’t show to be offended at all, to Alfred’s relief. “Then I’m heading first to bed. See you soon.”

And with that he disappeared. Count von Krolock left his seat, he approached Alfred, and with a worried face, he asked:

“What is it that’s been bothering your mind?”

Alfred gulfed. Suddenly he seemed to stutter, all the meantime staring down at his feet, “Well, long story short, during my time in the Void, I met a person. She’s not a demon, I’m quite sure… She was really nice, but… I don’t dare say whether she’s the person I believe her to be. She… she handed me this.” He pulled the letter out, fumbling in his hands for a few seconds before giving it to his father. Alfred glanced up. “Well, actually, she left me this. And because of the name written on it, I think I should deliver it to you.”

Now it was the count who received the letter with clouded brows. In a second, he wished it was otherwise, once again in his un-life had he been so conscious of so sharp a wish to erase those words on the envelope as well as the past that it might hold, for struggle as he might, there was borne in upon his mind a detestable memory of misery. But for all the effort to convince himself, the words were still there, his name written in cursives of long ages ago.

Count von Krolock had to walk away from Alfred as he tried to compose himself, opening the letter. The ancient, dry page trembled in his hand after each second he comprehended the words written on it, until one point, the man’s sniffs and tiny cries could be heard, and droplets of crimson red dropped by the signature which said, _Love you, Katalin._

Alfred stood there watching his father tremble slowly with a feeling of infinite restlessness. And then, before the young man knew it, the count was at him and knelt before him, pulling him to a tight embrace and weeped into his shoulder like a little child. “Thank you, Alfred, thank you…” Whispered he, clutching tight at the young man’s back as though it was the only source of condolence for him at this moment.

“You’ve found me my peace of mind. Thanks to you, I’ve found her.”


	46. Peace returns to the streets

The next day arrived with no more hideous murder cases being reported, only an explosion of unknown reason at the northern abandoned park was in the first page. Ludwig read the news with a grin which could not be spread any wider, and he laughed, yanking his head back on the sofa where he was idling himself.

“You’ve been laughing like a maniac since you returned from court.” Grimaced Herbert, crinkling his nose. “Aren’t your wounds hurt every time you laugh?”

“Let me have the time of my life, I’ve never felt so happy like this!” Bit back Ludwig with a slur, and then he laughed again.

“What a bless if you could share a little bit of that hyena laugh for father.” Herbert rolled his eyes, heading to the kitchen to brew himself some coffee. “Why did they kick you out, anyway?”

“I wasn’t kicked out, father told me to go home first because there was nothing left for me to do!”

“Sure thing they found you a useless sack of potato.”

“How was the trial, after all?” Broke in Alfred, heading down from upstairs. He picked Lilith up in his arms and gave her several head scratches. Ludwig was still sitting stiff when he returned:

“Well, boring.” He stuck out his tongue. “In the end Asmodeus would still be sentenced death, ever if he was still alive to attend, because he has violated the Codex too much throughout these years. However, I do not now what is stored for father, because as the council said, he upsurged their right in eliminating my sire. Father only told me it’s not that serious as it sounds.”

“I’m back.”

The count’s voice rang from the main door as he hurried inside, brushing the last of snow and frost off his shoulders. Anze was stroding right behind him. All attention turned to him immediately, and without further ado, Herbert asked:

“How’s everything?”

Count von Krolock went on telling them about what happened at court. The man was not sentenced to death, or jailed, or anything of sort, to their relief, only forbidden to hunt for one year, under the Council’s supervision.

They travelled back to Transylvania a couple of days after that. It was a delight to be home, finally, and a close observer could see that the count relished in seeing his mountains again. Koukol was very pleased to see them all and began a report on what very little had happened while they were gone as he unloaded the luggage. Sarah was grounded for a few days, had to run the inn for her mother because she had been out of town longer than she promised. But when the spring came, Herbert had found a way to successfully drag her into his trip around the world with him and Alfred. Ludwig, now free, had chosen the count to be officially his sire and had a family he had wanted without anymore worries. Anze had invited the count to come over to his mother’s cottage for a tea party, and they went back to Berlin, finding out the place where the count’s late wife laid – burnt to ashes and carefully kept by her descendants – thanks to the letter she left him.

The story here comes to an end. What will become of our characters? Will they turn over a new leaf? Or are they just going to stay the monsters they are in humans’ eyes? God knows. Here then, as the author lay down his pen and proceed to seal up his story, he brought the tale of the monsters of Berlin to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Many thanks to all of you who have been with my story till the last chapter. I tried the best I could to develop these amazing characters of Tanz, and please keep in mind that I'm not trying to wash them into good characters or such; many of them did horrible things, I know, but among their species, they would see it understandable, and I wrote this story through their points of view, so... :>  
> I'm opened to every kind of comments - as long as they're polite because I'm fragile - so if there're anything you would like to share just feel free to let me know. I'm willing to hear your thoughts ^_^


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